Dawn Age
by LadyBijou
Summary: History doesn't always tell all. Yulia Jue was more than a legend; she was a person. With her friends at her back she must challenge a war torn world to unravel the mystery of the Seventh Sentience. What was her relationship with Lorelei?
1. Breaking Dawn

So, this is obviously a prequel to the game. I'm trying hard to stick as close as I can to cannon information but obviously it will divert and there will be need for some artistic license here and there. Have fun seeing if you can tell fact from fiction… This is mostly me exploring Yulia Jue's character and relationships with Lorelei and the seven sages that followed her.

This chapter is mostly just introducing the three main characters. No, Flail Albert and Valta Sigmund are not OC's. Although, technically, since none of us have actually seen the characters in action... you could argue that they're all OC except Lorelei himself.

Oh, and I recently discovered you can actually reply to reviews! So from now on I'll be replying to reviews both in Florian the Innocent and this one. Exciting, no?

* * *

***~ Breaking Dawn ~***

_A boy stood among a sea of golden flame. He looked to be a mere youth but the glint in his impossibly clear green eyes belayed his true eternal nature. His long mane of red descended down his back and gently whipped about the fire surrounding him but did not burn. He was at home in the sea of flames. Perhaps he was a flame himself. Despite what she knew should have burned her flesh, the light surrounding them was soft, warm and kind. He didn't need to tell her not to be afraid; how could she be afraid of such a gentle light? He smiled as if in response to her thoughts and slowly reached a hand out to her. She stretched her body forward to take that hand and noticed his lips move but no words could reach her._

Darkness and a low throbbing of pain. The girl yelped more in surprise at being thrown from her dream to reality than the fall off her bed. She groaned as she rubbed the ache in her lower extremities and climbed unsteadily to her feet.

"That same dream again," she mused, pursing her lips together in thought. She didn't mind. It was a nice dream but she dearly wished she could touch that boy's hand one day and hear his voice. She imagined he had a very lovely voice to match his lovely face. With a blush she laughed at herself and shyly rubbed a hand through the short, faded blonde locks that dangled straight above her shoulders. "I'd better watch it," she teased herself. "Who gets a crush on a dream person?"

She stretched and moved to the hole in the wall that served as her personal shower. Cold water again, but what more could she expect from a dorm? The Ispania Academy was kind enough to give her and others who could prove themselves useful free lodging and use of their facilities so she had no right to complain anyway.

With a faint smile she discarded her night gown and set to work scrubbing away her sleepiness. Today she had to check on the cheagles, record any changes in their fonon levels, deliver some papers to the main office and hopefully get some of her own projects out of the way.

"Normal fourteen-year-olds wouldn't be worrying about this stuff." She laughed at herself again as she gathered her towel and turned off the water. "Normal girls would be worried about who they were going on a date with…"

_His hair was brighter shades of red and orange than the sunset itself. Long bangs were parted to the side so his eyes could remain locked fully on hers. She had never seen that shade of green before. It was such a bright hue it almost looked blue when the flames around him flickered at the right angle. Those eyes that were always watching her; inviting her closer with their warmth._

There was that boy from her dreams again and she blushed. She couldn't help snickering at her fluttering heart. How silly she was about that dream! But she truly would love nothing more than to talk to him just once.

Smiling she stumbled out of the shower and into her underwear which she covered with a simple, sleeveless white dress ending just above her knees. She paused at her closet before reaching in for an over vest consisting of lavender and pastel yellow. Once it was properly buttoned in place she slipped a long, equally yellow material around her back and tucked them under her upper arms. She thought for a moment before securing the trailing ends behind her back with two large blue beads. That would keep it out of the way from any dangerous chemicals she might come across. She pulled on two white gloves and tugged her boots into place before surveying her attire in the mirror. Perhaps she wasn't the most fashionable but it looked professional enough while giving her at least a small sense of self expression.

"Not like there are any cute guys my age to impress in the labs anyways," she said, winking one of her light verdant eyes at her reflection. With a mournful sigh she equipped her bag and looped the belt about her middle before pushing open the door to go face the world.

Ispania Academy was a modern castle in itself as far as she was concerned. Every inch of white stone was of the finest quality and the warm bath of fonstones lighting her path glinted brightly but not harshly. Every wall and table was mounted with a work of art even though it normally went without notice to the busy students and academics that raced up and down the halls as if their legs couldn't get them back to work fast enough. The girl mused with the idea of taking the long way to the lab but knew better than to keep her mentor waiting. Even as she half heartedly made note of the beautiful weather they were having (that she would miss while at work) her mind drifted back to her dream again.

_The boy's clothes were dark but mostly hidden under his white coat that trailed the lengths of his leg on either side. Dark blue, almost black, trimming traced his slender yet muscular frame and drew her eyes to his chest and shoulders. The thick, equally midnight blue scarf around his neck trailed behind him and fanned out dramatically against his back, making his silhouette that much more striking in her eyes. His soft lips parted as he spoke muted words…_

"Yulia Jue!" an elderly voice barked, earning a yelp from the daydreamer. The ancient man narrowed his eyes as her feet lifted her nearly a foot off the ground as if in attempt to match the impossible octave of her squeal. His lips twitched upwards but were thankfully hidden in his massive beard of white.

"D-Dr. Southern-Cross, you startled me," Yulia said, putting a hand over her chest to keep her heart from racing out of her ribcage.

"Apparently so," the scientist mused. He waited for her to regain some composure before speaking again. "Did you have another one of those dreams?"

"Oh, no, not one of _those…_ I had a dream about that boy again," Yulia admitted with a faint blush. There was no sense in lying to Southern-Cross. He had known her since she was first brought to his original labs in Kether as a small child so he had become very fluent in her body language. The man was somewhat disappointed but not undaunted. He acknowledged it with a grunt.

"It's a reoccurring dream so we can't dismiss it," Dr. Southern-Cross said. "It may have something to do with the future or the seventh fonon. Please make sure you record exactly what happened."

"It was just like the other times; nothing new," Yulia said with a sigh. "It's been that way since I was little…"

"Frustrating, hm?" Dr. Southern-Cross had turned away and was only asking to be polite as he focused on a display screen of various frequencies. Yulia knew she only had his divided attention and barely a fraction of even that now but spoke anyways.

"Not really," she said thoughtfully. "Honestly, it's like seeing an old friend… Like he's been with me since I was little. I don't really remember my family or friends anymore so it's nice to have someone familiar with me even if it's only in my dreams."

"Have you had any other dreams recently?" Dr. Southern-Cross asked rather than indulging her musings.

"None about the future." She had to suppress another sigh. She would be lying if she said she was surprised he only cared to hear about what he deemed as relevant dreams. The young prophet couldn't fault him for it even if it was taxing at times. Yulia knew how hard he had been working since the beginning of the Fonic War and how important his research was. In many ways it was the catalyst of the violent eight year old conflict and hopefully it would bring about the end. She only wished her strange power could help more but even seeing the future had its limits. If only she could see it a little more clearly than the vague sounds or shapes that could be interpreted any number of ways. Luckily she also had her own intelligence to fall back on and aid the doctor in other ways. Even though she had originally been brought to him as a test subject those nine years ago she had proved herself to be more than useful as a scientist in her own right under Dr. Southern-Cross' guidance.

"I'm going to check on the cheagles." Dr. Southern-Cross only grunted at her retreating back while he mused over the latest fonon frequencies he had obtained.

"Meiu! Meiu meiu!" The high pitched chirps were as deafening as they were cute. Yulia smiled at the caged creatures; their exaggerated ears, friendly eyes and various shades of fur were nothing short of adorable. She chuckled and reached into the bars to scratch their ears or let them play with her fingers as she went over the charts half heartedly.

Cheagles were truly fascinating creatures. Most of their understanding on the nature of seventh fonons came from observing the little beasts. It seemed that they were naturally attuned to the seventh fonon. Their potential to manipulate its powers were on par with a seventh fonist. No, in all honesty, they had a better understanding of the seventh fonon than any human.

"Goodness, it looks like you healed yourself from that bump yesterday!" Yulia praised a small orange cheagle. "Look at how clever you are. Do you think you could show it to me, Pochi?"

Pochi regarded Yulia shyly as it pressed its little paws together. The small creature glanced about to make sure only she was watching before forming the tiny green glyph and demonstrating its healing arte. Yulia clapped appreciatively, praising it for its hard work. She was always gifted with these rare demonstrations by her cheagle friends. No one spent as much time as she did with the tiny animals although, admittedly, it wasn't entirely by choice.

"I think I'm starting to figure out your tricks, too," Yulia said, enjoying the shocked look on the small creature's face. "Watch!" She closed her eyes while feeling for the seventh fonons that were always at her side, carefully mumbling a soft fon verse while a tiny teal glyph formed at her finger tip. With a sigh it dispersed and she rubbed the back of her head nervously. "I haven't entirely gotten it, though…"

Still, the cheagles were impressed and chorused their approval and encouragement in a symphony of squeaks and squeals. Yulia smiled at their praises. She wasn't quite confident enough on her control to try for more than that; the seventh fonon was surprisingly difficult to summon and never entirely stable for some reason. She was confident Southern-Cross would crack the mystery of the seventh fonon soon enough though and then they could start experimenting with various types of artes based on its healing properties. The great scientist was the one who had discovered it, created the Planet Storm and solved the energy crisis a few years back. She was confident there was nothing her mentor couldn't do.

"Yulia!" The ancient called and seemed irritated with the fact he had to raise his aging voice at all. She must have taken too long or not heard him the first few times. With a quick promise she would visit the cheagles again soon Yulia scrambled to her mentor's side.

"Yes, Doctor?" she called back pleasantly as she entered the main lab. He sighed at her before removing his spectacles and rubbing his bleary eyes. Yulia frowned. "Doctor… did you spend the night here again?"

"Child, you don't understand the urgency of my research." His voice sounded as heavy as his eye lids no doubt were. "Yulia, I shouldn't have to tell you just what my discoveries have cost the world…" Yulia flinched and rubbed her arm uncomfortably with a short nod as her eyes averted from him.

"No… I understand," she said softly. "it's hard to believe it's been eight years since it all began. The Kingdoms of Hod and Kether really were destroyed, weren't they?"

"Yes, they were," Dr. Southern-Cross confirmed even though he knew it was a rhetorical question. There was no way Yulia nor would he forget the death and destruction of their homes. "Half of the human population… gone in one month. If my research could lead to such a horrible tragedy then I must take responsibility and end it…"

"Please don't push yourself too hard," Yulia said as she looked back at her mentor. "If something happened to you I don't know what I would do. It wasn't your fault the world became this way. You didn't order the six kingdoms to attack one another." The old man's cheeks wrinkled into a smile beneath his beard. Even though he didn't deserve such feelings, it was kind of her to comfort him.

"Hm… Indeed. Never the less, we must focus on uncovering the true nature of the Seventh Fonon," Dr. Southern-Cross said, trying to force them back to business. "Thus far we know it has the power to heal, rarely occurs naturally outside of the fonbelt or the core and is directly related to memory particles." Yulia nodded but said nothing, knowing he wasn't saying this for her benefit so much as trying to think his way through something.

"Yulia, what I'm searching for right now is a way to end this violent debate that has torn our world asunder," Dr. Southern-Cross said. "I must uncover whether a Seventh Sentience exists."

"A-A Seventh Sentience?" Yulia chocked on the concept. Everyone was well aware of the Six Sentiences: Shadow, Gnome, Sylph, Undine, Ifrit and Rem. All of which were considered gods according to the teachings of the Church of the Six Sentiences. A seventh one could rewrite religion as everyone knew it and shake the very foundation of life on Auldrant more so than any war could ever hope to.

"Since a massive amount of fonons are required for a Sentience to appear and there are so few Seventh Fonons naturally occurring, I suppose it's only natural we have never seen it before," Dr. Southern-Cross continued, ignoring the growing look of anxiety on the profit's face. "However, with the Planet Storm in place, even as damaged as it has become from Kether's destruction, there are bountiful Seventh Fonons everywhere. I'm hoping that if the Radiation Gate can generate enough that it will reveal itself."

"If we don't know its nature… what if it's dangerous or unfriendly to humans?" Yulia asked, imagining a great, hulking beast looming over them.

"For the sake of this world… that is a risk we must take. With the world plunging deeper and deeper into despair I'm afraid uncovering the Seventh Fonon's true nature is the best we can do," Dr. Southern-Cross sighed unhappily as he replaced his glasses. He allowed the silence that had fallen between them to continue as Yulia pondered the implications of proving the existence of a Seventh Sentience.

"Ah, as for the reason I called you out here," he said, breaking the mood that had settled between them. "I was starting to get hungry so I hoped you would go fetch us some breakfast."

"Couldn't you ask a servant for that?" Yulia groaned. Even though she was fairly agreeable and patient with his whims that didn't mean he could order her around.

"Oh, I thought you would love an excuse to get out in this weather." Dr. Southern-Cross didn't need to look up to see her face switch from frustration to joy as she realized the method behind his madness.

"I would!" Yulia said brightly, clasping her hands together in excitement. After such a dark conversation she needed the fresh air to clear her head anyway. "I'll be back soon!"

"Ah, to be young and in love with the world…" The aged scientist sighed as he watched her all but skip towards the sunshine and fresh air.

* * *

"Master Valta… Master Valta?" Warm voices were certainly nice to hear on warm days. "Hey, Valta!"

Ah, but this one apparently needed something.

"Brother, you don't need to call me Master." The dark blonde young man smiled down with his cinnamon brown gaze. He refrained from laughing at the older teen's hands-on-hips-you're-in-for-it-this-time posture. Icy blue eyes glinted up at him against the sunlight.

"If Count Sigmund heard me talking disrespectfully he'd be irritated," the boy said with a shrug. "Now, get down from there! You'll ruin your clothes climbing trees like that."

"My clothes? You're worried about _my clothes_?" Valta whined. "What about my safety? I'm really high up, you know?"

"If we're lucky, when you fall you'll land on your head, young master," the pale brunette sniffed, biting back a smirk. "Not even gravity could break something so thick."

"You're so cold, brother," Valta whined again before obediently slipping off his branch and landing with both feet, knees bending to absorb the shock before springing back to proper posture. He smiled. "Ah, I'm still taller than you again today."

"Don't be so proud of your height! It's only a matter of time before I get a growth spurt, too."

"Even though you're six months older, it's still like this, huh?"

"People grow differently; it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Then why are you sulking so much?"

"Why you…!"

"Master Valta, Flail, stop that at once!" a maid ordered from across the courtyard. "If you wrestle each other over there you will ruin Madam's flower bed."

"Even she isn't worried about my safety," Valta said with an amused sigh. "And here I am being assaulted and everything…" Flail rolled his eyes as he dropped the taller boy and stood up to wave at the maid.

"We'll be careful! Don't worry," he called. "I'm just getting the young master to his studies." The servant seemed satisfied by this and continued her duties.

"Geez, brother, do I have to?" Valta asked as he also hopped to his feet. The glare he received told him he wasn't going to smooth talk his way out of anything. Not that he ever could when it came to his big brother.

"I'll let you study outside this time, though," Flail relented at the dejected look on the blonde's face. "It is a really nice day…"

"Maybe I can watch your sword practice, then?" Valta said more than asked, grinning happily as he followed Flail to retrieve his books. He half heartedly noted the way his servant's high pony tail bobbed back and forth with each step. Sometimes he felt like a cat; that hair could use a good smack, but that ran the risk of getting him smacked in the head.

"Why not?" Flail shrugged, not bothering to look back knowing Valta would fall into step with him eventually. "Once you finish your studies for today maybe we can get some practice in together, too?"

"I'd like that," Valta admitted with a faint smile. "Although I'm not nearly as good as you are. You have to promise to let me keep at least a little of my dignity."

"It's only because you're busy studying all day to inherit the family name," Flail said evenly. "If I'm not keeping track of you then I have nothing better to do with myself but sword practice…" Valta frowned softly at that.

"Hey, brother…"

"If your father hears you calling me that he'll be mad."

"Let him be mad."

"Valta…"

"I'm serious." Valta took two quick steps, effectively rounding on the shorter teen and locking gazes as he halted their progress through the manor. "Flail… you're the oldest; you should be the one to inherit the family name. Just because of that stupid technicality…"

"Being an illegitimate child isn't _just _a technicality," Flail said, smiling weakly even though they were falling into an old argument. "I'm just lucky Madam Sigmund lets me stay at all. It can't be easy on her to see the result of her husband's affair every day… Your mother is very kind, Valta."

"She is… but father was too cruel when he revoked your right to even use your real name," Valta said, his cinnamon gaze turning dark. "Your name shouldn't be Albert… It's supposed to be Sigmund."

"Albert is a fine name," Flail said with a chuckle at his brother's anger. He couldn't say he wasn't comforted by it. "It was my mother's maiden name, after all. One day it will be Sir Albert when I join the army and become a knight. Don't you worry, Valta, I'll make a name for myself. I don't need to inherit one." Valta sighed before shrugging off his frustrations.

"I just can't win against you, brother," he said with a shake of his spiky blonde locks. Flail laughed before leading the younger boy the rest of the way to his room so they could gather his study materials. The manor garden was spacious and left plenty of room for the heir to get lost in, but somehow Flail always found him. Valta imagined it was because Flail secretly hid from their father or other servants when he wasn't performing his duties as a big brother or guardian. He stifled a faint chuckle at the thought as they crossed into the threshold of the main house and worked their way down the cool marble hall towards the private library. Valta began to quietly muse over what books he would need to gather. Most of it revolved around history which basically meant memorizing war after war and how it had shaped their land. Valta was snapped out of his musings violently and yelped when he felt himself suddenly being pushed back behind a pillar. He considered objecting, but noticed Flail hiding himself as well and motioning for silence.

Steel toed boots echoed soundly off the marble floor. That wasn't uncommon, though, and Valta gave his sibling a queer look. They did have some guards and it wasn't like guards didn't wear armor. Why was his brother so determined for them to be hidden? Belatedly he noted another set of heavy foot falls but he knew just from the length of the stride who the perpetrator was.

Count Lucious Sigmund turned the corner, immediately flanked by the Captain of the Royal Guard, Gardios Rosencrants. He felt his brown eyes bulge on sight of such a high ranked member of the army waltzing through their home. The olive haired, coal eyed man normally wore a confident, winning smile on his face and was the idle of every boy in the Kingdom of Ispania, but today he looked solemn.

"… So, as you see, we have reason to fear that Ispania might soon be under attack as well despite our proclamation of neutrality," Gardios said, his rich voice reverberating through the acoustics no matter how soft spoken he was.

"I'm more surprised that it took them this long to target us," Count Sigmund said. "I suppose it's because of Dr. Southern-Cross' research. They don't want to risk him getting caught in the cross fire or lose track of him like when they attacked Kether."

"Yes, so it's safe to assume they will start their attack on the opposite end or find a method to secure the academy first," Gardios agreed with a nod. "We are gathering our soldiers to start patrols and station extra guards around the perimeter of the capital. I'm afraid that Her Highness will need to call upon the strength of the nobles to fend off our enemies."

"She has my sword, of course," Count Sigmund announced boldly, blue eyes narrowing at the thought of someone daring to attack their beloved kingdom. "I will gladly step into battle for the sake of Ispania."

"I am pleased to hear that," Gardios said, smiling for the first time but it was subdued. "Your son is how old now?"

"In three months he will be sixteen," Count Sigmund relented the information warily, "but my wife insists he not participate in battle."

"Unfortunately, I feel like there will soon be a time upon us where such a life will be a luxury to the most fortunate," Gardios said as his smile turned grim.

"I understand," Count Sigmund said. "I will have my son prepare for battle."

Flail's hand tightened around Valta's arm. The younger Sigmund winced but not from his sibling's pressure so much as the realization that war would soon be knocking on Ispania's door and he would be answering it. Valta barely noticed when his arm was roughly jerked in a new direction. He blinked at the rigid way his brother's shoulders were set but was too numb to do more than recognize how upset the servant was. He smiled faintly; Flail was taking someone else's problems personally again.

How could he? Flail seethed with rage, teeth grit to the point of nearly causing sparks. There were many things he accepted of their father, but throwing Valta out on the battle field against trained soldiers was madness. Valta had good instincts for the sword but he was still very green and had never been in actual combat even against monsters. To pit him against seasoned warriors was condemning him to death. Even though Flail had always encouraged his brother to learn the sword he had hoped it would never be needed.

"Brother," Valta eventually managed once he had choked down his own dread. "Hey, brother, it's ok… I mean, the enemy won't be here for a while, right? I'll get training and everything before then…"

Flail released Valta's hand and turned on the tall blonde with cold fire in his eyes.

"You don't get it!" Flail snapped. "No matter how much you have trained none of that could possibly prepare you for real combat. Forget your lessons for today!" Valta took an unintentional step back at his brother's rage but more so at the fact Flail was demanding he abandon his lessons. Flail never stepped out of duty and had never allowed his sibling to do so either.

"Ah… But, brother…" Valta stumbled for a response, eyes wide as if the servant had just grown a second head. "Are you sure?"

"We're going outside the city to fight with monsters," Flail said. "You're going to learn what it's like to spill blood." The blonde cringed.

"Do you have to put it like that?" he said more than asked, fingering the sword that was always at his hip. Even though it was mostly for decoration's sake, his sword was sharp and well maintained. There was no doubt it could split even a golem's skin. "Besides, fighting monsters is one thing but I'll be going against humans…"

"Baby steps," Flail said as he folded his arms. "If we're lucky maybe we'll run into some bandits and-"

"Brother!" Valta cut him off angrily, his cinnamon brown turning dark at the casual way Flail discussed killing. Flail clicked his tongue as he recognized his error.

"I'm sorry," he relented calmly, "but you don't understand how violent the world is. Ifrit's inferno! I don't know how violent the world really is outside of this kingdom. Ispania has managed to keep any conflict from reaching its soil but outside there is blood and death everywhere. The whole world is insane, Valta, and it won't forgive you for being soft."

"I know you're worried about me." Valta also softened his tone. "I understand that. I'm not ignorant of the outside world, either, but it's just difficult to think of killing so easily. Just let me take this one step at a time, ok?"

Flail couldn't help smiling grimly at his brother. "Only as long as you promise to keep taking those steps and have a decent pace," he said. "We can't be certain how long we have. Captain Rosencrants didn't seem very optimistic about the situation."

"Ah, if I am dragged into the military I hope it's under him." Valta's expression brightened magnificently. "Captain Rosencrants is said to be among the top most powerful warriors in the whole world. As long as he is leading Ispania's armies then we have nothing to fear."

"He is pretty impressive," Flail admitted, allowing his smile to relax at the change in subject. Valta's hero worship was contagious and the servant couldn't say he didn't admire the warrior at least a little bit. Only a little bit.

"Pretty impressive!" Valta exclaimed. "He's amazing! You base your sword style after his, right? I've seen you sneak past the training grounds just to watch him." Flail's cheeks darkened to a brilliant scarlet.

"What!" he squeaked in alarm that he'd been caught. "You… Have you been following me?"

"I'm pretty good at stealth if I do say so." Valta grinned.

"That's horrible! You're horrible! Don't spy on people," Flail sputtered indignantly. "Someone of your stature shouldn't be running around sneaking through bushes and who knows what else." He growled softly as his sibling didn't even bother to hide his laughter. With an indignant huff Flail turned away to continue leading them out of the grounds to the city.

He would just have to make Valta pay for it during training.

* * *

And thus ends chapter one. I'm basing most of the information off of a timeline I found translated from a Japanese site. Much of this will also be me filling in the cracks of what history left out. Feel free to correct me on anything that seems strikingly out of place or odd.


	2. Ispania: The Kingdom of Light

This chapter is once again mostly focused on setting up the Dawn Age and the major basic political/social situations surrounding the main characters thus far. I'm pretty bored tonight so I actually might go ahead and write the next chapter tonight if not tomorrow. I really am looking forward to getting to the actual journeys and such.

* * *

***~Ispania: The Kingdom of Light~***

"Good day, Master Valta."

"Master Valta, how is the weather?"

"Well, if it isn't the young lord out on the town!"

Valta cheerfully greeted everyone who would give him the time of day. He didn't mind in the least stopping to chat with the other nobles briefly about either his activities or Count Sigmund's. Every delicate hand was received and politely kissed as he bowed to the ladies. While it was technically one of his duties to maintain appearances for the Sigmund house it was also his pleasure. He delighted in any opportunity to make a friend or new acquaintance.

It was annoying.

Flail had to bite his cheek to keep from sulking or glowering at the younger boy. Honestly, it took Valta half the day just to make it down the street! He was starting to seriously consider throwing a bag over the noble and dragging him the rest of the way. Flail tried to content himself with planning his revenge; letting Valta take a few extra hits from a monster might even teach him better defense. Lessons sometimes needed to be learned the hard way.

If only the day had been a bit more overcast or gloomy then maybe there wouldn't be so many people. Flail scowled up at the clear blue sky as if he could intimidate the clouds into gathering and raining out the distractions.

Various flying machines filled the skies above, humming and glimmering with Third Fonons in the late morning sun. Some of the more flashy vehicles had clear domes over their flight stones to showcase the size and power of their ride. A small part of Flail wished he could have one. Such machines were expensive but with one of those he could explore the world and skies.

"Sorry about that," Valta said unapologetically, grinning as he waltzed to his half-brother's side. He had to hold back a chuckle when he saw Flail give a small start at being snapped out of his daydream. It wasn't often anyone took the older youth off guard. "Was I really taking _that_ long?"

"You always take _that_ long." Flail frowned at the implication, but wasn't willing to take the bait and start a squabble. That would just waste even more time.

"You're just too strict." Valta shrugged before turning to enter the market place, knowing Flail would fall into step with him. He kept a frown off his face when he saw Flail hadn't fallen for his taunts again. Normally it barely took any provoking to set his brother off. What did Flail know about the upcoming conflict that was making him this upset? Perhaps things were far more serious than he thought.

"Hey, it's not like you to get nervous," Flail's voice was gentler now, almost concerned. Valta laughed.

"Who wouldn't be nervous with you stressing out so much? Those kinds of feelings are contagious, you know," he half teased, but Flail flushed when he realized the effect he was having on the younger boy.

"Sorry," he said. "I should be trying to reassure you, not making you feel worse."

"Don't worry about it," Valta said. "I'm probably not taking it seriously enough. War is a scary thing. A little more fear might do me good."

Flail only made a soft, thoughtful noise at that. He could tell Valta was nervous just by the tension in his sibling's shoulders. Normally the blonde was like liquid; his movements always fluid and graceful. Since they had overheard Captain Rosencrants and Count Sigmund discussing the heir's immediate enrollment in the army Valta hadn't been able to relax. The long haired brunette kicked himself for not noticing sooner. What a pitiful big brother he was. He would need to be more observant of what he said and did in response to Valta's moods. Protecting someone didn't just mean keeping them alive.

"… Hey, Valta, before we head out why don't we grab a snack?" Flail said more than asked. "We'll probably be out there for a while. You still like curry, right?"

"I love curry!" Valta said brightly, breaking into a grin that Flail couldn't help but return.

"You're such a kid." The eldest boy chuckled.

"Hey, there's no shame when it comes to good curry."

* * *

"We don't have any." The man glowered at the girl from behind his stand, arms folded stubbornly across his sagging chest and rested atop the protruding stomach. His black eyes smoldered as he watched Yulia shift uncomfortably on her feet.

"But… this is a curry shop," Yulia said slowly, recognizing the man's posture and his intentions, but trying hard to deny it. "How can you not have any ingredients?"

"We just don't." Yulia flinched at his sharp tone and her gaze fell to the ground. Her hands gripped at her skirt in frustration as she blinked back hot tears. Once she regained some self control she raised her eyes to meet his with a glare of her own.

"I see," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "Could you recommend another restaurant?"

"Who would want to serve someone like you?" The man practically spat venom at her. "Get out of our kingdom! You'll bring destruction upon us all."

"S-Sorry to bother you," Yulia mumbled, her face burning with shame and rage when she heard a few people nearby mutter agreements. She turned on her heel and swiftly shuffled one foot in front of the other.

It was understandable that people would react that way, but it still hurt. Her chest and eyes burned despite the young scientist's attempts to choke back the pain. It shouldn't matter what a stranger thought, but when so many strangers thought the same thing and treated her the same way, it hurt.

"Woah!" Yulia's shoulder collided hard into something firm yet soft, causing her to stumble forward and twist around with the momentum of her pace. She nearly cried out herself, but had been biting her lip too hard for more than a grunt to escape.

"I-I'm sorry," she said instinctively as she turned to stare down at the boy she had barreled into. The young man hadn't been quite as lucky as her and took a tumble to the ground. His dark blonde hair sat in wispy spikes that were swept backwards as if the wind had permanently blown it that way. Cinnamon brown eyes winced as he flashed a weak smile in her direction. The boy rubbed a hand over his chest where Yulia's shoulder had plowed him down; wrinkling some of the delicate, rust colored fabric his short coat was made of. It was seamlessly tailored to the boy's tall, slender form and fit nicely over his white under shirt. The embroidered coat tails came just above the knees of his dark brown pants which snugly fit into leather boots.

There was only one sort of person who would wear such finely made clothing—a noble. She had knocked over a noble!

"I… I-I'm so sorry," Yulia managed, voice jumping an octave as she pressed her hands together, folding them back against her chest anxiously. The prophet fidgeted before remembering her manners and reached out to help him up. "I wasn't looking where I was going and I just…"

A strong grip locked onto her wrist, jerking the petite girl back from the noble boy. She saw the boy's brown eyes widen with shock and surprise that must have matched her own. Numbly she sought for the offender; green eyes trailed from her wrist to the hand pulling it in an uncomfortable angle, over the creamy white sleeve that was eventually tucked under a brown vest. Yulia's gaze fell over the attached shoulder to the base of the neck. A blue bow loosely yet properly bound under the shirt collar. The face she looked up into was hard and dangerous, but shockingly beautiful. For the briefest of moments she thought it might be a female, but quickly thought better of that assumption. Harsh blue eyes burned holes into spring verdant from under pale brown bangs. The rest of his hair was pulled back into a pony tail with another blue ribbon. It was quite a shame—his hair looked so soft and delicate.

"Don't touch him." Nothing was soft or delicate about that voice, though. Yulia recoiled as if he had struck her with ice.

The frosty youth all but threw her frail wrist back at Yulia as he turned to see to the blonde sitting in a pile of confusion on the ground. Yulia rubbed her possibly bruised hand subconsciously while she tried to recover from the severity of the brunette's reaction to her.

"I'm ok, brother," the noble eventually said as he stood, frowning down at the other boy. His eyes stole glances in Yulia's direction, wary after the hostile way his sibling acted but he seemed more confused than upset.

"Good." The overprotective boy glared over his shoulder at Yulia, half daring her with his eyes to even attempt approaching his sibling. Yulia took a subconscious step backwards. She couldn't bring herself to speak. How could a boy so young and with such a pretty face be so frightening?

He seemed satisfied that she wasn't going to do anything further before roughly grabbing the blonde's wrist and leading him off through the crowd. The taller boy made a soft noise in protest at being lead like a child, but even he didn't seem willing to cross words with the brunette just now. He casted one last look in her direction then fell into step behind the shorter youth.

Yulia felt her legs waver for a moment, snapping her back to reality as she gripped her previously captured wrist. Her cheeks burned and her brows furrowed.

"Wh-What was his problem?" she grumbled shakily.

* * *

"What was that about?" Valta asked once they had advanced a safe enough distance that Flail had released him. Flail didn't answer for a moment, turning to look back over the crowd as if he expected to be pursued.

"You should be more careful," Flail said. His expression softened as he turned back to Valta. "You don't want people to think you associate with that girl."

"Wh-What?" Valta sputtered. "Why? Why would you say that?"

"I've heard of her before," Flail said grimly. "She works for Dr. Southern-Cross…"

"That guy who came up with the Planet Storm? Seriously?" Valta was more than a little taken back. "I heard he was in Ispania, but I hadn't thought much of it. He's a refugee from Kether, right?"

"Technically he's from Hod," Flail said. "He moved down to Kether after Hod received permission to build the Planet Storm about twenty five years ago. They say it was while he was there constructing the Radiation Gate that he found the Seventh Fonon…" His voice trailed off bitterly. "That cursed fonon which started this war."

The war that was now threatening his family.

"Is that why he and his associates are hated so much?" Valta asked. He shifted thoughtfully so his right foot bore most his weight. He folded his arms across his chest to prop one hand up to hold his chin. Flail half shrugged.

"It hasn't earned him much favor," he said, "but the main reason is that he's supposedly one of The Forseers."

"I know about that." Valta perked up. "Father doesn't seem to think highly of them. They're the ones who think we should use the Seventh Fonon to see the future."

"Yeah," Flail said with a short nod. "That's what the major debate is about since that fonon was discovered. The Forseers want to use it to read the Planet's Memory and The Denied reject the use of the Seventh Fonon entirely."

"You sure know a lot," Valta mused, surprised by how well informed his sibling was despite the fact he wasn't privileged to higher education.

"I've read some of your books, stupid." Flail rolled his eyes. "How else did you think I knew how to help you with your homework?"

"You mean all this time you've been learning all that stuff without a tutor or anything?" The blonde was definitely impressed and maybe a tad jealous. Perhaps there really was nothing Flail couldn't do. He was entirely self taught in the sword and scholastics.

"You really should pay more attention." Flail allowed himself an exasperated sigh but couldn't help secretly being pleased with his little brother's awe. He fought back a satisfied grin and opted for smirking instead. "Then maybe you wouldn't get in trouble with your tutors and Count Sigmund so much."

"I learn the things that are interesting to me," Valta huffed, "and the important stuff." The brunette considered asking for a definition of what Valta considered important but decided he was better off with his sanity intact.

"Anyway, I've just caught wind of a bunch of rumors about that girl from the other servants and people around town," Flail said, "and it's best if we avoid any contact with her."

"Rumors?" Valta didn't like being out of the loop even if it was unverified information.

"I… heard that girl works directly under him and she has this creepy power. Rumor has it that she's made a deal with a devil to see into the future." Valta stared at Flail a moment before laughing.

"A devil? I didn't know you were superstitious." He chuckled at the pinkening of his sibling's cheeks.

"W-What? There's no reason to believe it couldn't happen!" Flail said defensively. "Besides, there have been lots of weird incidents involving her."

"Hm, so she has a really bad reputation and is involved in some sketchy research," Valta mused thoughtfully. "It sounds like a mystery novel or something. It's actually kind of cool."

"There's nothing cool about her situation." Flail shook his head, the delicate ponytail swinging in his wake. "Having a weird power that makes other people hate or look down on you wouldn't be easy. If anything, it's kind of pitiful."

"Then… why were you mean to her if you feel bad for her?" Valta quirked a brow at the servant.

"If people thought we associate with her then we would get harassed, too." Flail sighed and offered a helpless shrug. "We'd just end up getting involved in something that isn't our business and would get us in trouble with Count Sigmund."

"Oh… so that's it." Valta quickly sobered at the realization of his brother's position. The blonde didn't need to worry so much about being disowned; he was the heir; he had a purpose. Flail, however, was merely a whore's child that Count Sigmund took in as his responsibility for the crimes he made against his wife. Their father would jump at the chance to throw his flesh and blood shackle out of the house for even the tiniest mistake or offense.

"Don't make that face; you're over thinking the situation," Flail said, turning away to dismiss the unspoken subject. He led the rest of the way towards the gate, deciding this time they would take the less crowded back alleys to avoid anymore incidents.

* * *

"Who did that guy think he was? Honestly!"

Angry didn't begin to describe it; Yulia was livid. She could put up with a lot of abuse, but that boy nearly took her hand off! She was just trying to apologize. He didn't have to make a huge scene like that. Everyone would think she was some kind of bully with the way he acted towards her in front of all those people. Hadn't she been through enough humiliation?

"Where's my knight in shining armor when I need one?" Yulia snapped at no one in particular, kicking a rock against the pavement to punish it for being in her way. "The boy in my dreams would have smashed that creep for talking to me like that."

The prophet almost chuckled at the mental image of the red haired young man punishing the brunette and the curry shop owner for picking on her. He would stand before her protectively and shelter her behind his back while chasing away anyone who dared to lay a finger on her.

"As if…" Yulia waved a hand to brush the daydream away. She smiled sadly. "Even if he was _real_ I doubt he would come to my rescue…" Her eyes darted down to the boxes she had carefully wrapped in cloth to make it easier to carry. The scientist hadn't been able to find a restaurant that was willing to sell her any quick meals so she would just have to cook something up.

"On the bright side, I'm well on my way to becoming a first rate house wife," Yulia joked, forcing a skip to her step as she picked up the pace. Now that the beautiful weather was spoiled she had no desire to stay away from the lab any longer than necessary.

A soft glitter of pink in her peripheral vision caught Yulia's attention.

The prophet paused thoughtfully as she stared at the barely visible flowers that taunted her line of vision. Pink petals contrasted gently against the vibrant green of the tree leaves. Their scent went mostly unnoticed by the busy citizens of Ispania, but it continued to waft upon the breeze.

Yulia recognized the markings on the gate; no doubt this area was controlled by the Church of the Six Sentients. The prophet almost laughed when she realized where her angry shuffling had led her.

"Rem's Garden, huh?" Yulia hadn't been there in a long time. No one had from the looks of the rust on the once well maintained and polished doors. She ventured close to touch the gritty iron that had been twisted into elegant, dramatic arcs. The gate moaned ajar and she was mildly surprised to see it was open to the public. That or no one cared anymore even if the garden was vandalized.

Rem's Garden was once considered a sacred place. Legend had it that Rem itself had descended to bless Ispania with its eternal light and had ever since been the patron god of the country. The Church of the Six Sentients had constructed the garden in honor of the bond between the people of Ispania and their guardian, but since the church's fall into controversy few people came. Even fewer people so much as mentioned Rem anymore; all anyone had to discuss now was the Seventh Fonon and where the next blood bath would take place.

"Poor Rem…" Yulia mused sadly as she slipped between the iron doors, frowning at the state of the holy sanctuary. The flowers had over run their beds and the grass was nearly at Yulia's waist. Luckily the stone path still managed to keep the growing forest at bay, but she felt it was best to watch her step. Despite the less than well kept state of the garden, it was still beautiful. In some ways, the moss and vines wrapping about the old monuments and fountains added a mysterious charm to it.

The profit carefully made her way up the stairs to Rem's altar. The marble was still clear of moss and disorder at least. Perhaps that was a small testament to the devout believers whom constructed it to last as long as Rem's light shown in the sky. She sat the groceries to the side before kneeling to pray.

Surely Rem was lonely. The Sixth Sentience had been abandoned by the people it swore to protect. Before the Seventh Fonon was discovered, the Fonon of Light had been dearly loved; people flocked to its garden to hear legends of the merciful deity from around the world. Now the garden was silent and devoid of its followers.

"Oh, it's strange to see someone here," a soft voice mused gently. Yulia gave a small start as she turned her head. The boy couldn't have been any older than she was. He had soft grey eyes and similarly stormy hair that poked out from under the yellow fabric of the exaggeratedly tall hat. To her it looked like he had an ornate box sitting upon his head. He was so small and frail in the sunny robes and mantel he wore that she almost laughed; the clothes were entirely too big on him and he failed to carry the pious authority the outfit was designed for.

"A cleric?" Yulia asked before standing and smiling back at the boy. "I didn't realize anyone from the church still worked here."

"Well, the Garden of Rem is still considered a shrine of sorts," the youth said before smiling sheepishly at her from behind the tiny lenses of his glasses. "Although… it's just me here and only because I'm still an acolyte, actually. I'm in training and I guess they felt I could do the least amount of damage here."

"Oh," Yulia mused before frowning sadly. "So there really are that few of visitors who come here now?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the boy admitted. "It's a bit lonely but at least the plants keep me busy. I'm trying to clean it up and revive this place. Even if no one wants to pray to Rem, at least this garden can cheer people up a little… The world has become entirely too sad."

"I agree." Yulia couldn't help smiling at the gentle boy's kindness. While he spoke he gazed so fondly at the plants she would think they were his dearest friends. Perhaps he had been alone in the garden too long, but it was still touching to see someone who genuinely cared about anything. "Maybe… If you don't mind, that is…" She hesitated, but when he made no move to scorn or curse her, she continued. "I would like to help you."

"Why would I mind, miss? I'd be thrilled to have some help." His stormy eyes glittered with joy. Yulia almost took a small step back in surprise. The acolyte didn't seem to recognize her at all. He really had been living in this garden too long! Not that she was complaining; she'd prefer to be around someone who was ignorant about her reputation any day.

"Great!" The profit practically cheered, moving forward and taking the boy's hands in hers to confirm their new friendship. "My name is Yulia. What's yours?"

"F-Francis." The acolyte blushed at having a girl approach to take his hands. When he regained his composure he cleared his throat before beaming at her. "Francis Daath."

* * *

The harmony was off.

The glittering memory particles fluttered and swirled like living snow. Fonons were freshly cleansed, purified then sent out into the world to fulfill their role once again. Every fonon had a specific purpose and part to play in maintaining Auldrant's balance; parts that they had always dutifully fulfilled. They had never gone off beat once. That was until the noise began.

The excess fonons never went without notice, but they had merely been a small inconvenience at the time. Now they were everywhere! There were too many. They were getting in the way. So many were being thrown into the cycle, but would have nowhere to go. The excess fonons merely lingered ominously, growing restless without purpose. There was no direction, no order, and it was cluttering up the air with mindless noise.

The harmony was becoming a maelstrom of noise.

And the vibrations! Why would anyone allow that horrible, wretched buzzing to continue violently churning the fonons about? There was entirely too much noise. It was hard to even hear the harmony at all. If the harmony was lost, the tempo would go next, then the entire piece would fall apart; Auldrant would fall apart.

Would it really? Maybe. The harmony had never been lost before. It should never be lost! The fact that it was a possibility at all was mind boggling. But what could be done?

Whatever was to be done would need to be done fast. The noise irritated Him so.

* * *

So, this chapter is relatively short if the word count is accurate… Anyway, I'll be able to get to the actual plot in the next chapter or two now that we've pretty much set up the important current affairs of Dawn Age!Aldurant.


	3. Whispers of Lorelei

Sorry for taking such a long time to upload this little chapter! Since we're heading into the final weeks of my classes it'll be a while before I can seriously devote myself to writing.

* * *

_***~Whispers of Lorelei~***_

Yulia had quickly realized she was not blessed with a green thumb. The scientist knew theoretically how to take care of plants, but for some reason no matter how much water, sunlight or fertilizer she dumped on the defiant flowers they would either wilt away or over run their beds. She wasn't entirely sure how she accomplished these things. At least Daath seemed to think it was funny.

The acolyte and Yulia had quickly become close companions. Every day she rushed to finish her projects at the lab before hurrying to his aid. If she was entirely honest with herself, the prophet had never had a friendship last this long. Normally her acquaintances became suspicious of her work and were frightened away from any dealings with the seventh fonon. The fact she was researching it was bad enough, but if they found out she could use the controversial power it would often times end in explosions of hatred and paranoia.

Daath never asked too many questions. He was just content to have her company and didn't care about prying into any unnecessary subjects. The acolyte was ever patient with his new friend and he would always listen calmly to the prophet's rants or frustrations with a gentle, amused smile. Without her saying so he had pieced together the fact that she worked for the academy. Yulia never delved into the subject of her research nor anything too specific, but Daath was mercifully silent about any assumptions he had made unless she asked for his opinion. Daath's respectful trust in her made it easy to keep secrets and even easier for the profit to tell her secrets to him one small bit of information at a time. One day Yulia believed she could be fully honest with Daath. Certainly one day she would.

Yulia smiled at the thought as she twisted her hips perpendicularly with her shoulders to ease through the rusty gates of Rem's Garden sideways. The scientist made a mental note to make sure they did something about repairing the gate soon. While dusting the grime from her skirt she took a moment to admire their hard work. The grass had finally been battled down to a respectable level. The flower beds were still a wreck, but at least they had pulled out a good portion of the weeds. Not bad for three weeks of work. Or had it been longer than that? Yulia wasn't entirely sure. She felt like the past few weeks had blurred together at some point.

"Daath?" Yulia called when she approached the altar. Normally he was there waiting for her, but she didn't catch sight of any yellow robes or stormy grey eyes. He had mentioned needing to go pick up some new fertilizer and such. Or maybe he was going to get groceries.

With a sigh the prophet eased her weary self down beneath one of the nearest trees to wait. The girl's spring green eyes gazed up at the warm light filtering through the pink blossoms and branches. She duly noted a bird serenading her from across the garden in harmony with a few lazy afternoon crickets. Yulia's eyes began to grow heavy. She had been working so hard to finish her projects early lately that she periodically forgot to sleep. Maybe a little nap wouldn't hurt…

_Walls of flame erupted around her. It wasn't the gentle golden flames she had become accustomed to. These flames were a harsh red, violently whipping about the wind and snapping hungrily at her with their unforgiving heat. Above the flame's roaring fury she could hear terrified screams and angry shouting. She hadn't heard those screams since she was a small child, but the realization of what had happened made her body quake with fear._

_War had broken out._

_Rem's Garden was burning! Ispania Academy was burning! Where was Daath? Where was Dr. Southern-Cross? The smoke was eating away her vision. All she could tell was that Ispania was being covered in fire and despair._

_The fires parted and she could make out the vague shape of a boy with a sword, his delicate pony-tail whipping about behind him as he rushed through the chaos. Where he walked, the flames parted as he made his way towards Yulia. She couldn't make out his exact features, but she could tell he was crying beneath his harsh glare. Despite the violent look on his face she wasn't frightened of him. In contrast, she felt a wave of relief and desperation to reach him wash over her. Yulia extended her hand the boy and he grasped the offered appendage firmly, pulling her away from the cruel flames._

_Everything turned a brilliant gold and the boy's image dispersed. In his place stood the redheaded dream boy. Yulia nearly reeled back in shock. She had never been able to get close to him before. Never mind actually holding onto his hand._

_The redhead's grip on her tightened slightly, snapping the girl out of her awe and she looked up to meet his gaze. His brilliant green eyes weren't smiling kindly at her; they were clouded by a deep sorrow. Yulia's heart nearly broke at his painful expression. She tried to ask him what was wrong and how to help, but no sounds escaped her lips._

_For the briefest of moments the mysterious youth looked amused by her failure to communicate. He smiled, but it was an agonized and mournful smile. His lips parted to speak to her…_

"Yulia!" The voice was soft spoken, but it was deafening to her as it resounded through the girl's subconscious and ripped her away from the vision. Her body shuddered almost violently as she stared unthinkingly up at the sunnily robed acolyte.

"Are you ok?" Daath asked uncertainly, his brows knit against his forehead in concern, "Yulia? You must have been having a horrible nightmare…"

"Oh… Ispania…" Tears slipped unnoticed from Yulia's eyes. "Ispania will be filled with fire and death…"

"Wh-What are you saying?" Daath asked. Normally he would dismiss such a statement as a bad dream, but the grim heaviness of her voice convinced him for a brief moment that she was serious.

"I…" Yulia's breath hitched, snapping her out of the daze as she tried to wipe tears from her eyes. "I need to go back to the academy."

"You look really pale," Daath said gently. "I'd rather you stayed here for a little longer. Just until I know you'll be ok." Yulia wanted to argue that this was more important than her health, but her body felt so weak in spite of her nap. Normally her visions didn't exhaust her so and it worried the prophet what that could mean.

"Alright," Yulia agreed reluctantly, sitting back against the tree and closing her eyes as if she could force her recovery. Daath relaxed and sat down next to her.

"That nightmare must have been bad," Daath said as he pressed his back against the rough bark, satisfied Yulia wasn't going to make an attempt to strain herself. The girl wanted to argue that it wasn't just a nightmare, but wasn't quite ready to reveal her powers to the gentle acolyte just yet. Surely he would hate her more than anyone else if he knew. It was because of the seventh fonon that the Church of the Six Sentients had lost so much power.

"Yeah… Pretty bad," Yulia said as she became fascinated with her hand. The dream boy had actually touched her. She had never made contact with him in all the many years he had appeared in her dreams. What could it mean?

"You were talking in your sleep a bit…" Daath said, causing the girl to blush. His cheeks flushed as well when he noticed the wary look in her eyes. "Oh! It wasn't anything bad but you mentioned a name before you woke up."

"Really?"

"Yes, and I was wondering… Who is Lorelei?"

* * *

"Valta, above you!" Flail shouted over his shoulder.

The lithe blonde barely managed to throw himself out of a harpy's path before its claws raked the earth he had been standing on. Valta rolled forward, using his momentum to propel him back into a standing position. He quickly pivoted to block its sister's beak from tearing into his chest. The harpy recoiled with a scream of anger as it lost a good portion of said beak to Valta's sword.

Valta's blade leapt up to take the monster's neck when it exposed the vulnerable flesh, taking grim satisfaction in the fact the hit landed as fresh blood gurgled from the wound. He didn't have time to appreciate his victory as the other harpy sought revenge for its fallen companion.

"_O maddening gala of the spirits of the earth! Stalagmite!"_

The beast never made it to Valta before spears of rock burst from the ground and ran through its wings and abdomen. The blonde hesitated before glancing over at his sibling, not willing to put his sword away just yet in case Flail felt the need to force him into instant sparing.

Flail narrowed his eyes as he sheathed his own weapon at his left hip.

"Valta, you have to keep in mind all the enemies; not just the one you're currently waving your sword at," the brunette said. "You could get yourself killed." Satisfied he wasn't about to be pressed into a fight, Valta sheathed his sword as well with a small pout.

"I could have handled that last one…"

"You would have lost your head to the first one if I didn't say anything."

"… Yeah, thanks," Valta admitted with a sheepish smile. "I'm glad I don't have to worry about fighting alone since I'll always be with a squad."

"You can't rely on others to watch your back, though," Flail said, doing his best not to smack his forehead in frustration. "Doesn't the captain teach you anything?"

"Hey, Captain Rosencrants is a busy guy," Valta said in his superior's defense. "He can't personally babysit me just because father asked him to watch my back. Not to mention I've been forced through speed training so it's not all that great… But that's why I have you help me out with training."

"It bothers me that they're so rushed to get you out on the battlefield," Flail grumbled, folding his arms thoughtfully. "What good are troops that don't know how to swing a sword properly?"

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" Valta objected unhappily but the older swordsman waved his hand to dismiss the complaint.

"I'm not just talking about you," Flail said. "Other people aren't fortunate enough to have a side tutor or sparring partner. Honestly, you're probably going to be the best prepared in your platoon. You'll have to look out for yourself and the others…"

"It's too bad they won't allow servants to join in the Royal Guard." Valta tried hard not to show his own frustrations. He didn't want Flail to feel like he had to soothe the younger boy's sulking. "Nobles only is a stupid rule."

"It can't be helped," Flail said with a small shrug, "but, don't worry, I'll definitely find a way to protect you if I must." Valta gave him a suspicious look but was cut off before he could speak.

"I hope you aren't planning anything reckless." The smooth, confident voice was unmistakable and both teens quickly straightened themselves as the seasoned warrior waltzed calmly onto their mock battle field. Gardios Rosencrants smiled at the siblings. "I'm glad you care so much about your master, but please do not put yourself in danger. Valta is a soldier now and you are a civilian."

"As a servant it's my duty to protect my master," Flail said, failing to keep the stubbornness from his voice. The Captain chuckled.

"You have done a marvelous job at it," he praised. "Your swordsmanship is impressive. Some of those moves remind me of my own style, but it seems to be based on combining fonic and strike artes together… I'm surprised you were able to come up with it on your own."

"Well, I've had time to research and practice it…" Flail felt his cheeks grow warm at the flattery and couldn't resist being soothed by the captain's words. Damn that guy; he really had a way of talking people down. The brunette imagined that if Gardios wasn't a soldier he would be an excellent politician or public figure. No wonder his men and Valta admired him so much.

"So it seems," Gardios said, his coal eyes smiling knowingly. "You've gone to some extremes to protect your brother. I can see how close the two of you are, but a civilian on the battle field will just cause trouble. However, I do wish you could join our ranks, as well. Perhaps if you can join a lower squad and work your way up to knight status?"

"I-I would like that," Flail admitted, amazed that Gardios had figured out the goal he had pledged to reach since childhood.

"You really mean that?" Valta grinned at his superior's generosity. The olive haired man smiled.

"I'm not simply saying that out of kindness," Gardios said. "I am truly impressed with Flail's dedication to the sword. He needs some polishing, but a swordsman who can also wield fonic artes would be an excellent addition to our ranks. Although, becoming a knight doesn't necessarily guarantee anything but it will make arguing his case easier."

"Brother, you should do it!" Valta all but cheered.

"Yeah… It sounds like a good plan." Flail couldn't help smiling. "Better than sitting around the manor for sure. But, Captain Rosencrants, I'm kind of worried… Why is there such a rush to gather our forces?" The Royal Guard's gentle face dimmed into a faint frown.

"That is something I can't discuss," Gardios said. "Forgive me, but it is classified information." Flail obviously didn't like the sound of that and didn't bother to hide it in his expression.

"We understand." Valta nodded to Gardios and offered him a smile in consolidation for his brother's suspicious attitude. Luckily the Captain didn't seem offended. "By the way, is there a reason you came out here?"

"I got word from one of the border guards there were two young gentleman out causing a startling display of violence not far off the road leading into our beloved capital." Gardios' lips tugged upwards into a vaguely mischievous smile, enjoying the flush on both boys' cheeks. They had thought they were doing a good job not causing trouble while training. "So I came out to investigate personally."

"Sorry, sir," Valta said sheepishly. "We should have gone further away from the road."

"Indeed," Gardios agreed, "but I won't reprimand you for it this time. Just please try to be more careful."

"Yes, sir," both boys chorused, thoroughly embarrassed even though he was going easy on them.

Count Sigmund's sons certainly were interesting. Gardios knew that the Count himself was praised as a war hero and had assumed his children would be conscious of their studies in sword practice but he never imagined they would be this dedicated to it.

After military training he had noticed Valta would retire to secret practice with his brother and it was well known that at night he had yet to skip a shift of guard duty. The Captain had to wonder when the blonde found time to sleep. It was somewhat concerning but Valta didn't seem like the sort of person that would push himself unnecessarily past his limits. The boy's stamina was praise worthy.

Flail was equally impressive by the fact he had managed to secure so much knowledge and skill through his own power. Gardios imagined Flail had secretly found someone to mentor him. Even though the boy was considered a servant, it was well known by those in the military who had worked closely with the Count that Flail was actually his flesh and blood. No doubt they would be willing to help the child of their old companion no matter what the circumstances.

"It is getting late," Gardios said. "Flail, you should go ahead and inform the Sigmund House that Valta will be returning shortly. I would like to speak with him a moment." Flail was hesitant to leave his sibling even though he did trust the Royal Guard Captain.

"Go on, brother." Valta flashed him a confident grin. "I'll be right behind you, ok?"

"Ok, then," Flail agreed. "Come back as soon as you're finished talking." He didn't wait for a reply as he turned to leave the soldiers to their own discussions. The servant toyed with the idea of doubling back and spying, but he would need to learn to trust Valta to take care of himself now that he was a soldier.

The thought still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Flail sighed as he allowed his mind to fall into familiar circles of thoughts about his brother being forced into battle and having no guarantee the blonde would come back unharmed.

"_Valta is a soldier now and you are a civilian."_

His fists clenched as if he could crush the problem in his grip. Even if he did join the army now he would still be separated from Valta and unable to watch over the younger boy. He hated it. He hated being powerless to protect the boy that he had vowed to keep from harm. He hated the thought of an enemy soldier thrusting his blade into Valta's soft flesh and spilling the young life across an unforgiving battle ground. He hated the thought of losing the one person who didn't look down on him for being a whore's child.

"How pathetic… when it comes down to it, I'm just a selfish child who doesn't want to be alone, huh?" Flail mused with a humorless smile.

* * *

"Lorelei…" Yulia had been toying with the name since Daath had recounted her unconscious words. She didn't know anyone named Lorelei. To her knowledge she had never even heard the name before. How very odd. Perhaps it had something to do with the future? She would need to report to Dr. Southern-Cross immediately.

"It's strange," Daath commented from her side as if agreeing with her thoughts. "Lorelei is a very old name… If I remember right, it actually comes from an archaic language that died out a long time ago."

"The Angelic Language, isn't it?" Yulia said more than asked. "The oldest known language on Aldurant. There are a few records of it at the academy…"

"Yes, but most records are held by the official library at the Pope's castle," Daath mused. "It isn't very common knowledge. I'm amazed anyone outside the church has actually heard it."

"I'm… not really sure I've heard it before," Yulia said slowly. "It just came to me, I guess."

"Really? Well, it was just a dream so I wouldn't worry too much about it," Daath said gently as he offered her an encouraging smile. Yulia chuckled weakly at his ignorance of her situation.

"Y-Yeah, you're right." She tried to smile back at him but it came out more like a grimace. Everywhere she looked the prophet could only think of that horrible red flame consuming everything in sight. Would this Lorelei person have something to do with it?

The conversation died as the acolyte and scientist slipped into their own quiet musings.

"I don't know if I can go any further than this." Daath eventually broke the silence when they reached the academy walls. "The academy and the church aren't on the best of terms so…"

"Because of Dr. Southern-Cross' research?" Yulia asked before she could stop herself. The saddening of Daath's stormy eyes told her she hit the mark. Not that he needed to confirm it for her to know.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," the acolyte admitted. "You… wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?" Yulia shifted uncomfortably, but did her best not to give too much away without lying.

"I know some things," she admitted slowly. "It's kind of classified so I can't say much more."

"I understand." Daath tried to smile at her despite the implications of their conversation. "I don't know much about it myself, to be honest. I'm not privileged too much information at my rank."

"I know the church doesn't like the Seventh Fonon right now," Yulia said more desperately than she liked but she had to make Daath understand. She needed her precious friend to understand. "But… I really think that studying it can be beneficial to everyone. Please don't hate Dr. Southern-Cross. All he has ever wanted is to help the world."

"I… I understand that the Seventh Fonon can heal a person," Daath said unsteadily. "That is wonderful news but reading into the future is… Well, I don't have enough information to make a clear decision." He opened his mouth briefly before deciding against pursuing any deep topics. "Either way, right now I don't think we should be discussing this. You're tired so please go rest."

"I guess you're right." Yulia tried to keep the disappointment off her face, but she was relieved to see Daath wasn't entirely set against the seventh fonon just yet. Perhaps bit by bit she could tell him the truth about her abilities. "I am tired. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," Daath said, smiling brightly at the young prophet. "I'll stay here to ensure you make it inside alright. I can see the doors from here." Yulia blushed softly. No one had ever gone so far out of their way just for her safety.

"O-Oh, alright then." The girl cursed her stammer as she turned to make her way up to the academy doors, barely noting Daath's muted chuckle. Yulia only turned back to wave at him once she was at the entrance before hurrying inside. The great doors shutting in finality was like a bullet announcing a race's beginning. Yulia thrust one leg in front of the other, her heart pounding harshly against her chest as it forced the adrenaline she had withheld through her body.

Her rush was greeted with many cries of alarm and frustration by the other scholars, but she paid them no heed. Yulia couldn't tell how much time she had; her dream was only so specific as to tell her what was coming, not when it was coming. The attack could be minutes or months ahead.

"Doctor!" Yulia cried urgently as she burst through the lab doors, her shoulder throbbing from the violent shove she had given the heavy barriers.

"Y-Yulia?" Dr. Southern-Cross sputtered in shock. "What are you doing here? The experimental data is fine so there is no need for—"

"Ispania will be engulfed in flames," Yulia blurted out. Tears gathered in her eyes as her body quivered now that she was free to recall the dream. "So many people will die… Oh, Doctor, war is coming!"

"A vision then?" Dr. Southern-Cross asked gravely. Her confirming nod was unnecessary given her body language. "I will immediately alert the headmaster. Please, sit down and tell me what you saw."

Yulia all but crumpled onto the nearest stool, immediately burying her delicate face into trembling hands. Her composure wasn't difficult to regain; she had been brought to tears and distress many times by prophetic dreams so it was a familiar enough routine. Yulia's shoulders rolled backwards as she straightened herself and flicked a few stray locks of hair from her face.

"I'm ready," she said evenly. Yulia waited for her mentor to settle himself down across from her, his wrinkled eyes focusing deeply into her spring-green hues. "Ispania was on fire… the academy had been attacked. The fire was eating everything but… then there was a boy." Her brows knit together as she tried to recall his face. "He… was crying and seemed to be in pain but where he walked the flames of war parted. I think… I think he will save Ispania. Somehow…"

"Can you remember what he looked like?" the aged scientist asked. If they could find this savior perhaps there was something they could do. If they could not stop the attack then perhaps they could aid in the youth's predetermined struggle to save Ispania.

"Not really…" Yulia looked down miserably, gripping at her skirt in frustration. Dr. Southern-Cross was disappointed but kept it from his face as he leaned forward to place a wrinkled hand over hers.

"Do not force yourself," he soothed. "This much is enough."

"The dream boy appeared in this dream," Yulia said, meeting his gaze again urgently. "When I touched the other boy's hand, he appeared. I'm not sure what it means but… for some reason the dream boy looked like he was suffering." The aged man's wrinkled brow creased in confusion.

"He appeared? Did he say anything?" he asked.

"No, I woke before but… I think he was going to tell me something," Yulia said. "If only Daath hadn't woken me…" It wasn't fair to blame him, though, the acolyte had only been concerned about her.

Dr. Southern-Cross sat back with a rumbling hum of thought. Yulia could practically hear the gears in his head clicking and turning as he deciphered the information.

"I will go discuss this with the headmaster now," he finally said. "I'm not certain what that dream boy means, but for now the important thing is to prepare as best we can. Go get some rest, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Yulia said wearily. She couldn't keep the disappointment and frustration from her face. The prophet had so hoped Dr. Southern-Cross would be able to figure out what exactly her dream meant. More specifically: the dream boy's involvement in her vision.

"Oh, there is one thing!" Yulia piped up. "My friend was with me at the time. He said that I called out the name Lorelei." The doctor nearly reeled back before summoning an agility Yulia never knew he had. His grip on her shoulders was so harsh and sudden she couldn't help a soft cry of alarm.

"Did you say Lorelei?" he demanded roughly. Yulia shrunk back.

"Y-Yes… do you know him?" she stammered out weakly.

"Lorelei… The Sacred Flame in our language," Dr. Southern Cross said as he slowly regained his composure and released the poor assistant. He didn't seem to notice the bruises his grip had no doubt left on her delicate skin. "It's a very ancient name… I can't really be sure of anything. Yulia, the next time you see that boy in your dreams, make sure you immediately write down everything he says or does when you awake."

"Of course," the girl said softly as she rubbed her offended skin. Yulia liked to think she wasn't easily frightened but being all but assaulted by the gentle scientist that had raised her was somewhat unnerving. "I'll take my leave then…"

"Please do," Dr. Southern-Cross agreed, the gravelly voice heavy with his own troubles now and she knew he wasn't really paying attention to her anymore. Silently and swiftly she made her leave.

For once Yulia appreciated the brisk, unfriendly pace of the other academics. The prophet doubted she could handle any company at the moment while she tried to assess the recent events. War was coming, Dr. Southern-Cross was distressed, a savior needed to be found and a sacred flame had been kindled.

"Lorelei…" Yulia whispered. The name was light and sweet on her tongue, but it seemed to hold some greater meaning only her mentor understood. She toyed with the name thoughtfully.

"Who is Lorelei?"

* * *

Hm. I really didn't mean to end it here but I felt like it might be a little much to include the next series of events. Next chapter is going to be pretty hectic.

It took me a while to post this just because I needed to write out a plot line to follow and finish designing a few characters. (Goodness, this fic is going to be complicated! . ) I'm planning on coloring and uploading character pictures sooner than later so these guys can have a face. I'm trying to mimic Tales of games to the best of my abilities with their design and how intimate their relations to each other should be. I'm even thinking of creating some alternate costumes and side quest one shots.


	4. Red Flames

So, I've finally managed to update this and continue where I left off! Hurray. :)

* * *

***~Red Flames~***

The headmaster was a thin, frail thing of a man. Yulia couldn't help feeling as though beneath the luxurious clothing and frills his pale skin was supported by twigs rather than bone. Everything about him was exaggerated from his obscure posture to the magnificent nose he stared down from. She had been reprimanded many times as a small child not to stare by Dr. Southern-Cross but the fact that the protrusion was in the middle of his wrinkly face made it all the more challenging to ignore.

"Hmm… So, you have not had any prophetic dreams since then?" The headmaster's voice was offensively high pitched. His eyes rolled up from the report he had been skimming over to study the assistant. She was good at hiding it, but he could tell she was uncomfortable in his office and he would have enjoyed pointing out her timidity if not for the grave matter they were discussing.

"No, sir," Yulia said with as much confidence as she could manage. The elder man scoffed.

"To think the nightmares of a child could send soldiers scrambling," he groused. "Ridiculous. How far has Ispania's pride fallen?"

"Headmaster, it was not a mere nightmare," Yulia objected urgently. "I can tell the difference in a nightmare and a vision. Neither I nor Dr. Southern-Cross would have raised an alarm like this unless we were certain."

"Lady Yulia, fear not." A warm and confident voice drew the girl's attention to the soldier that had called the meeting personally. His mythril armor caught the light of the oversized windows, creating the illusion of a radiant glow. She had to refrain from blushing at the handsome face that was gently smiling at her behind his dark green bangs. "We have taken precautions and are most grateful to you for protecting our beloved country with your power. I was hoping that perhaps you could give us some clue as to where the attack might be coming from before heading to rejoin the front lines."

"I… don't know," Yulia admitted although she sorely wished she did. While the protection of innocent civilians was important, her current frustration was unfortunately more focused on the fact she couldn't help the charming captain more. Captain Rosencrants was every bit the gentleman his reputation professed.

"A shame," Gardios said kindly although his smile never faltered. He looked back to the headmaster. "Thank you for summoning Lady Yulia for me. I apologize for any inconvenience."

"Not at all, Captain," the headmaster said. "May your mission be successful."

"I shall not fail Ispania's people," Gardios said with another winning smile that earned another flush of respect from Yulia.

* * *

"He's so cool," Yulia all but gushed at Daath as she skipped about Rem's Garden. "I bet he would make a wonderful husband." Daath chuckled weakly at the girl's enthusiasm.

"I've certainly heard good things about him," the acolyte agreed. "Although I'm not sure about the husband part…"

"A woman can tell!" Yulia declared boldly. "You know a good man when you see one. He's the ideal type for certain. I don't think I have to worry about anything at all when he's around."

"You only just met him," Daath pointed out, "and in an official meeting. He might not be the same when in a less formal setting."

"Oh, don't say things like that. Let me have my charming knight in shining armor, ok?" Yulia half whined, but sparked another chuckle from the boy rather than sympathy. She paused when she noticed his outfit appeared to be a little less blindingly yellow. He had donned a simpler, albeit still ornate, robe that consisted of faded maroon and white. "By the way, what's with the outfit?"

"This is actually the official uniform for acolytes," Daath said as he smiled at Yulia. "Until now I have been wearing ceremonial robes because it was Luna Decan, the last month of the year when Luna entrusts the protection of Auldrant back to Rem." The scientist's eyes filled with guilt. She had failed to honor the sacred passage of the New Year right in front of Daath.

"That… I'm sorry; I completely forgot. Did you perform the ceremony by yourself?" Yulia asked, guiltily fidgeting with her skirt. The boy's smile was painfully accepting.

"Yes," he admitted, "but don't worry. You aren't the only one who has forgotten during these turbulent times. Years ago there was a big celebration through all of Ispania to honor Rem and Luna for opening and ending every year with their purifying light. Now… well, even the faithful are too frightened for their own lives to venture far from home to honor a forgotten god."

"Daath…" Yulia's voice softened at the boy's distant expression. No matter how sweetly he smiled it must hurt every time his beliefs and the god he so dutifully cared for was ignored. She hesitated before moving forward and taking his hands in hers, earning a startled squawk from the shy acolyte. The profit broke into a wide grin. "Next time let's celebrate the New Year together, ok? We'll throw Rem and Luna a big party!"

"Y-Yulia…" Daath flushed softly before managing to gather his wits. He smiled brightly. "Yes, let's do that. I'll look forward to it."

"Me, too," Yulia agreed cheerfully, offering her delicate pinky to him. Daath laughed at the childish gesture but accepted hers with his own pinky to officially swear their pact.

* * *

"Flail, are you ok?" One of the maids carefully approached the unhappy youth. Since Valta's squad had been dispatched to guard the borders, Flail had fallen into a constant state of brooding. Even while performing his duties there was a somber, dark aura around him that sent the other servants scrambling out of his way. The maid doubted even Count Sigmund himself would want to cross the moody teen in his current state.

"Has there been any mail?" Flail asked rather than answering. Valta would scold him for such rude behavior but for the moment the servant cared about being a gentleman almost as much as he cared for the feelings of dirt under his boot.

"None from Master Valta," the maid said, easily translating Flail's meaning.

"Then I'm not ok," Flail said shortly as he turned his attention back to sulking out the window. He barely took notice of her disapproving huff and indignant strut out the door.

How would Valta manage without him there? The blonde was by no accounts helpless but he was so trusting and carefree—no, reckless was the more appropriate term. Valta was reckless and naïve. How many times had the younger boy already been tricked or harmed without Flail there to protect him? The brunette nearly growled at the mental image of other soldiers picking on his poor, airheaded sibling.

What had drawn the troops to suddenly dispatch was beyond Flail, but he had been confident any day the manor would receive word of their precious heir being wounded or worse. Just the thought had nearly sent him rushing to grab his pack and charge off to battle more times than he cared to count.

Flail's forehead collided against the window pane with a dull thud.

"Valta… I'll never forgive you if you get killed," he breathed out, duly watching his breath briefly fogging against the cool glass. Gardios had apparently left the city to join the front lines early that day so there was some comfort in knowing the Royal Guard Captain was nearby to watch over Valta, but even he could only do so much.

Flail's mouth twisted into a soft frown. Come to think of it; why was the Royal Guard being dispatched to handle the protection of the borders? Wasn't their place at the capital with the palace? The Royal Guard by definition was supposed to be protecting the royal family. They weren't foot soldiers to scramble whenever convenient. Something wasn't quite adding up and Flail felt a cold chill of dread run through him.

Whatever was wrong; Valta was in the middle of it.

* * *

Yulia all but skipped down the cobble stone road, instinctively moving out of the way of various hover scooters and merchants scuttling past her on their way home. The great sun, Rem, was faithfully setting behind the distant castle on the horizon as Luna dutifully rose to take its place. Rem and Luna certainly were an integral part of Aldurant's daily life and yet they were so easily forgotten by its people. Yulia still felt guilty for leaving Daath to celebrate the deities on his own. Tomorrow she would have to do something special to make it up to him. Perhaps a proper picnic was in order? Or maybe she would scour the academy library for a book he might enjoy? It was forbidden to remove a text from the academy, but Daath's happiness certainly was worth the risk—what was that whistling noise?

The world erupted with a violent roar that threw Yulia against the blistering cobble stone. The air scorched at her lungs as she struggled to breathe. Fifth Fonons were everywhere, furiously igniting nearby buildings and helpless victims that were not fast enough to avoid the explosion of fonic artes. Yulia's mind was sluggish to recognize the danger she was in as she numbly studied the smoldering mass of flesh that had moments ago been a street vendor.

"What…?" she mumbled faintly to herself. "How did this…?"

Fourth Fonons converged and flooded the roofs of nearby buildings, spilling over the storm drains onto Yulia as the nearest fonist began to smother the flames to the best of his abilities. The girl sputtered and cried out in alarm as she unsteadily stumbled to her feet. Her vision was bleary from the smoke and horrid familiarity of destruction around her.

_Tiny feet shuffled through the tainted snow. Don't look up. Don't look up. Please, don't look up. Every now and then her boots caught on a piece of rubble or broken wood. Heeding the advice of the scientist leading her by hand, the small child kept her eyes glued to the formerly pristine whiteness. Why was the snow red? Snow wasn't supposed to be red. Her foot caught something soft. She looked down at the severed limb she had stumbled across in the once pure snow._

Yulia choked out a helpless sob of terror as her body pulsed with icy adrenaline. She was thoughtlessly running through the chaos that had been the market street moments before; dodging over rubble and death. Subconsciously she knew she was going to the academy but for some reason the girl couldn't recognize Ispania anymore. Monuments were shattered, bodies blocked streets, people were screaming and running, soldiers were scrambling; the red flames were everywhere.

The academy doors had been crushed.

Yulia skidded to a stop. Her breath was violently forced in and out of her lungs as her chest heaved with the effort of keeping her oxygen supply in check with the blood pounding through her veins. Yulia's petite body quivered at the sight of the decimated front lawn. That morning it had been host to multiple outdoor lessons in sunny weather and pleasant picnics between colleagues. Now it was a garden of corpses.

Every instinct screamed for her to run or hide; something that would preserve her life. Yet Yulia pushed forward; she couldn't leave without Dr. Southern-Cross. Even if he was dead she couldn't leave without the scientist that had so kindly protected and raised her from such a tender age. Whether his intentions had truly been out of sympathy for her or the fact she was crucial to his research didn't matter to her; he was the closest thing to family she knew of. Yulia would not leave without him.

The earlier panic she suffered had been smoldered by icy determination as the girl silently breezed through the halls of the ruined academy. She clenched and unclenched her fists to lessen her hands' shaking while forcing her eyes to avoid lingering too long on what remained of the slain. Yulia wasn't sure how much better she could possibly fare against an enemy; she didn't have a weapon and, even if she did, the girl wasn't trained in combat. She was a scientist! Her whole life was devoted to studying and engineering new ways to seek peace rather than wage war. Would she even be any help at all to Dr. Southern-Cross if she could find him? That was, providing he was still alive to help.

A fatal scream caught Yulia's ear and she threw herself back against the nearest wall for shelter. Her heart hammered blood in her ears as if trying to block out the following cries of terror abruptly concluded by horrible silence. Yulia was selfishly relieved to realize the murderer's footsteps were directed away from her mentor's lab. If they were after the brilliant researcher then they didn't know where his lab was. Grim hope renewed, the profit hurried down the proper hall once the coast was clear.

Dr. Southern-Cross had never been a violent man although he had never fancied himself a pacifist either. While he cared little of combat he was not naïve enough to assume he could live in such a cruel world without learning some form of self defense. The moment the city had burst into flame the ancient had been preparing himself for the worst. His staff was practically glued to his side, mentally reminding himself of the proper fon versus for his spells even as he prepared the destruction of his beloved lab.

After Yulia's prophecy he had already gathered the most important items of his research and prepared for such a situation where immediate escape was necessary. The only problem now would be whether his old bones could carry him fast enough. He had been a good eight years younger the last time he was forced to exert himself in such a way and it had nearly killed him. How far could he get on his own feet before his life was claimed by man or beast?

No, he couldn't think about it; he had to ensure his research did not fall into the wrong hands again. Dr. Southern-Cross would not allow his studies to cause more devastation to the world than it already had. No matter what the cost he would not allow it.

But did he have the strength to carry out his noble cause?

"Doctor!" Yulia's voice was clear and pure in the cruel silence of the once bustling academy. Dr. Southern-Cross could have laughed at himself for thinking her a symbol of divine intervention as she rushed through the doors of his lab.

"Yulia! You're alive!" His declaration almost sounded like praise to her ears. She smiled despite her obvious exhaustion and quivering body.

"Yes, but everyone else is…" Yulia hesitated as if reconsidering the emotional barriers the rest of her statement might break down. Young as she was, Yulia had a good head on her shoulders and knew now wasn't the time for mourning. "We need to leave here."

"Indeed, child," Dr. Southern-Cross agreed. A loud crash down the hall caused his hands to grab Yulia's slender shoulders a little too roughly and shove her down behind one of the lab benches. His mind was fast and regretful for the responsibility he was about to force his precious assistant to bear for him. "Yulia… There isn't time for both of us to escape now."

"No, Doctor, we can still—"

"No, _we_ cannot, but you can." His hands reached under the bench to reveal a traveling satchel and a small box. Dr. Southern-Cross delicately held them for a moment before turning back to the girl. He opened the box and pulled out a strange head ornament of golden metal. It was twisted into spirals on both ends and connected by a loop that would fit around the back of her head. "This is an amplifier I have developed for you. There is no time to go into the specifics of its design, but it will enable you to sense the Seventh Fonon easier. Perhaps it will even strengthen your prophetic powers, but I have not had the time to properly test it."

"Doctor, I—" Yulia's objection fell on deaf ears as he fixed the amplifier upon her head.

"I'm afraid it is not very fashionable," he said with a faint chuckle. "In the bag is a capacity core and documents that will help you with the assignment I'm about to give you."

"Assignment! What are you saying?" Yulia felt her stomach clench with horror at the thought of him sending her away without him. She had never been away from the ancient scientist as far as she could remember.

"Yulia… take my research and summon the Seventh Sentience," Dr. Southern-Cross said firmly, gripping her shoulder to ensure his words sunk in. "You must do this for the sake of Aldurant. Use my staff to defend yourself and heal this broken world."

"I… I can't," Yulia choked out, tears finally making their way to her eyes and clouding her vision. A thundering crash and cry of alarm from another victim of war had Dr. Southern-Cross on his feet and half dragging his distraught pupil. He didn't give her time to argue as he wrenched open a passage behind one of his many cluttered shelves.

"Go, Yulia, and be strong," Dr. Southern-Cross said as he forced her into the secret passage, shoving the satchel and his staff into the folds of her arms. His face creased into a weary yet warm smile. "You are now my hope for the future." The girl's tiny body quaked with terror and she could only manage a strangled cry as the door shut with horrid finality.

"_Dr. Southern-Cross!"_

_

* * *

_

_What were the guards doing?_

Flail snarled as his blade bit into the jugular of another chimera. The beast gurgled out a final roar before crumpling to the ground upon its fallen brethren. Flail flicked his head sharply to the left, whipping his bangs out of his harsh eyes.

The onslaught of Fifth Fonons had been bad enough but now they had to contend with a horde of beasts. He belatedly noticed as a pair of harpies descended towards a nearby maid.

"No, you don't!" Flail cried as he thrust his blade into the air. He laced his Stalagmite arte with the Fifth Fonons swirling around them and altered the fon verse accordingly. _"Crimson fury, burn! Eruption!"_

The harpies screamed in rage and confusion as they were assaulted by the vicious arte as they neared the ground. Flail knew the maid wouldn't escape entirely unharmed being so close to the attack, but a few minor burns were better than being shredded by talons.

"Get back into the main house!" Flail shouted. "Send the guards out here." When the maid failed to move he growled harshly at her. "What are you doing? Do you want to die? Just go!" He felt somewhat guilty for the sudden start he gave her, but ignored it as he was rewarded by the maid retreating out of danger.

"Dammit, how did this happen?" Flail hissed as he turned his attention back to defending the manor. It had to be an enemy that unleashed the monsters into the capital; there was no way the monsters could have invaded without help. He gripped his sword tightly. Could the front lines have fallen? Was Valta's squad whipped out? His thoughts were cut off by the clanking of metal and he braced himself to fight back human foes until he saw the familiar insignia of the Ispanian Royal Army.

"Please go find shelter," a soldier called to Flail. "We are securing the rest of the noble districts."

"What about the lower districts? The peasants are probably in even more danger if it's this bad here!" Flail shot back heatedly.

"The nobility must take priority," the soldier said. "You should be well aware of this."

"… Yes, of course." Flail had to check his temper. The knight was only doing his duty and he wasn't wrong but for some reason it didn't sit well with the youth. "Permit me to go join the forces in the lower levels! I know some artes and can assist in containing the fire."

"Look, kid, you'd be better off just staying here."

"I'm not a noble so you won't be risking your status if that's what you're worried about!" Flail declared boldly, earning a flinch from the knight which told him he hit the mark. "It's obvious that the army is having a hard time containing this. Please, let me go help."

"… Very well," the knight finally relented, "but you're responsible for your own life, got it?"

"Trust me; I wouldn't let anyone else take that responsibility," Flail said before rushing out of the manor grounds, his feet pounding hard against the road as he rushed into the fray. He would stop this madness then go confirm his brother's safety with his own power.

* * *

For once Daath was grateful that part of his training to priesthood involved learning how to master and control various fonic artes; the fourth of which he was particularly proficient in.

"_O violent torrent… Splash!"_

The flames hissed as they were extinguished by miniature floods of water. The stormy eyed boy felt slightly winded from the heat and repeated use of fonic artes, but tried to push his growing exhaustion aside.

Daath had never once fancied himself a hero or particularly brave. Like most people, he just wanted to live a peaceful, well-meaning life away from danger and chaos. However, such lives were rare these days and it was only a matter of time before one was forced to confront the dangers of the Fonic War. Despite his preference for peaceful means to an end, Daath certainly wasn't going to idly stand by while people were being threatened. Not if there was something he could do. However, he had to admit his main concern was a certain young scientist that had been on her way home when the attack began.

He should have walked Yulia back and ensured she was safe. While he didn't doubt she was much tougher than she looked, his heart wrenched uncomfortably at the thought of any misfortune falling upon her. They had been friends for an admittedly short time but the girl had quickly made herself an integral part of his daily life. Daath had always been sympathetic to those-in-need, but Yulia was the only person he could honestly say was special to him and caring for her went beyond the call of an ecclesiastic's mercy.

"A monster! Look out!" The warning barely came in time for a charging boar to tear its way through what remained of a vendor's stock of produce. Daath winced as the crates' splinters fell against him and he instinctively raised his hands to guard his face and vitals. Several other volunteers cursed as they scrambled out of the monster's way.

"Please stand back," Daath shouted, gripping his rarely used mace tightly as he opened his fonslots to the Third Fonons nearby.

"_Howl, o raging wind, and cleave mine enemies with your blade! Turbulence!"_

The boar shrieked in pain as the fonons assaulted its body, ripping into the thick hide of its back and sides. With a last squeal of pain the boar collapsed under the fury of Daath's attack. Cringing at the death he had caused, the acolyte paused to give a soft prayer for the fallen beast.

"Not bad, kid," a man cheered, raising his sword in recognition of the boy's skill.

"N-No, not at all," Daath said, voice soft in sharp contrast to the chaos around them.

"This area seems to be under control now," the man half shouted. "Would you come with us to the eighth district?" Daath instinctively started to agree before hesitating.

"I'm worried about my friend from the academy," Daath said apologetically. "I would like to confirm her safety first."

"I understand," the man said. "Good luck, kid."

"Thank you. May the Six Sentients watch over you." The acolyte offered a smile but couldn't wait for the man's response before rushing towards the academy. Many of the fires had been put out but it seemed the monsters were giving the knights a hard time. When he could, Daath would stop long enough to offer a quick arte to assist, but he was worried about Yulia's safety and pressed deeper into the capital.

* * *

"We must keep the gates locked," the knight said. "The fire damage is minimal in the third district but there is no confirmation on whether the monsters have been exterminated entirely."

"All the more reason for me to go," Flail argued. "I can take care of myself. As a servant it is also my duty and honor to protect the nobility."

"I cannot allow a child to place himself into such danger, regardless of the reason," the knight insisted. Flail sucked in a breath of hot air to argue but was sharply cut off by a powerful and commanding voice.

"Stand aside!" The knight and Flail shared a wince; there was no mistaking Count Sigmund. Flail was quick to step out of the way as the great noble approached, his armor glinting sharply in the torches' light. His posture was straight and exuded every drop of authority born to him through blood.

"C-Count Sigmund, we are under Commander Fulman's orders to keep the first and second districts under strict lock down," the knight said, his voice nearly breaking under his rigid stance.

"I care not for that bloated cod's orders," Count Sigmund said sharply. "I will not stand by while his incompetence destroys the capital. To think he was the one to take my position after I left… Disgusting. The fact this attack has even gotten so far is a tribute to his stupidity."

"We are doing all we can under the circumstances," the knight weakly tried to defend his superior, earning a scoff from the war hero.

"You are merely delaying me," the count said harshly. "Now, stand down before I make an example out of you for disrespecting those of higher rank." The poor knight buckled under the threat and quickly signaled the others for the gate to be opened.

Flail's faint hope that he would go unnoticed was shattered when the Count's furiously blue eyes locked with the boy's matching gaze. A small quake went through him and his posture stiffened, but he refused to look away as father and son—master and servant—stared each other down. Count Sigmund took a step towards the gate before finally turning his body away from Flail and focusing his attention on his original purpose. Flail clenched his fists tightly. He wasn't naïve enough to think he had won against his father; the man simply had more important matters to deal with at the moment.

The guard's signal to close the gate snapped Flail out of his frustrations and his body instinctively leapt forward, dipping and rolling beneath the iron barrier before it slammed heavily into place. Shouts of anger and warning were lost on the brunette as he ran into the third district. Purposely avoiding the path Count Sigmund took, Flail darted down the scenic route past the academy. He cringed at the battered state of the school that Ispania had been so proud to house. So much money had gone into it from the Sigmund house thanks to the lady's love for art and science. She would be most displeased by the poor shape of the walls and gates.

"… Now, come quietly and watch your step," a female voice cooed. Flail ducked low against the academy wall, frowning at the threat beneath the woman's sugar coated tone. He slid along the wall quickly and quietly until he managed to position himself near the main gate that had been conveniently crushed. The youth removed his blade, using its reflection to observe the situation.

Five dark hooded figures of various sizes and builds were standing on the lawn in front of a dark, unmarked hover vehicle. Three of them were guarding the parameter while a small female and a tall male figure were guiding their captive on board. The old man's hands were bound by iron shackles despite the fact he appeared to be no physical threat to the group. His eyes were downcast but furious at his capture while he shuffled his feet.

"The girl got away," a tall possibly female figure walked up to one that was standing away from the group, arms crossed as he waited impatiently. He made a low grunt of acknowledgement.

"It's a shame, but as long as we have him it should be fine," the man said, his voice surprisingly young. "We'll capture the girl soon enough. We can't let someone with her powers to go unchecked."

"Of course." The feminine figure brought a fist across its chest and gently touched it to the left breast, bowing respectfully to its superior.

"Geez, old people are so slow! Come on, move it, old guy!" The small female had lost her patience with their captive and all but booted him the rest of the way in.

"H-Hey, we don't want to hurt him just yet!" the other escort objected as he hurried in to tend to the old man.

"Whatever, as long as we have him alive, it's fine." The girl shrugged. "Let's get out of here. The monsters can finish off this stupid city. This is what they get for supporting people who are trying to tamper with the Seventh Fonon."

Flail cursed softly under his breath before rushing out from his hiding spot, his sword catching Luna's light ominously. The group's attention was instantly drawn to him but none seemed particularly threatened.

"Are you the people responsible for this?" Flail all but spat, his hackles raised for a fight.

"And what if we are?" The largest male stepped forward, folding his arms across his chest; his voice a deep baritone.

"I'm not going to let you get away with this!" Flail snarled as he rushed forward, bringing his sword down on their apparent leader. _"Fang blade!"_

"Stupid child!" A halberd's blade intercepted Flail's attack, neatly catching and repelling his force across the bloodied academy lawn. The servant cursed and rolled with the momentum to his feet in time to block another harsh blow from the feminine figure. Sparks flew from where their blades collided, briefly lighting up the night around them.

"Honestly, and we don't get in on the fun?" the little female complained sadistically, fingering her concealed weapon as she watched Flail struggle against their ally's attacks.

"Like that boy could entertain you for long," the largest male snorted. "He won't last much longer."

"Yeah, but it's the principle of the matter," the girl whinned.

Flail yelped as he was flung to the ground yet again and tried to scramble out of the way of the perusing halberd. He awkwardly managed to shift his weight and raise an arm to block a harsh kick from the figure, but it was enough to throw him off balance.

"There!" his opponent cried in triumph as it thrusted its blade towards Flail's soft abdomen. There was no avoiding it, but Flail managed to bring down his sword to deflect the blade from his vitals. His blood splattered across the already crimson soaked ground as his side was torn open. Flail staggered back, gripping at the wound in a useless attempt to hold the rest of his blood in. His sword felt heavy in his hand but Flail held it defensively before him with grim determination to defend his life.

"_O violent torrent! Splash!"_

The assailant cursed in alarm and was forced to cut off its next attack to focus on dodging away from the burst of water. "Who's there?" it demanded.

"That's enough," the leader called, obviously not wanting them to get tangled up in more trouble than necessary. One suicidal kid that didn't know how to mind his business was fine, but getting drawn into a battle with a fonist as support could draw unwanted attention. "Let's go."

"Hmph." Even though the face was obscured by the feminine figure's hood, Flail could feel the irritation radiating from underneath. "Let that be a lesson to you… Don't get in our way again, boy." The sound of the hover vehicle's float stone roaring to life prevented Flail from responding. In a flurry of movement the figure was racing to hop on board with its allies. The wounded servant barely took notice of the smallest female mockingly blowing him a kiss as they defied gravity into the night sky.

"Those… bastards…" the swordsman mumbled venomously, staggering back against a broken monument as his vision blurred and his sword fell uselessly to the ground. The last thing he saw was something or someone rushing to his side and a muted cry of alarm before he fell into darkness.

* * *

"Hey, are you ok? Hold on!" Daath half shouted urgently as he ran to the brunette's side. His hands trembled nervously as he watched the blood pooling below the swordsman he had rescued. There were so many questions he had and no time to worry about the answers as he scrambled to stop the bleeding. "Can you hear me?"

"D… Daath?" The voice was soft and easy to miss among the chaos of the night. Stormy eyes searched the darkness until they came across a pitiful figure emerging from nearby shrubbery. Yulia had never looked so helpless; her eyes were brimming with unshed tears and her body quivered as if ready to fall apart at any moment. The profit was clutching her satchel to her chest as if it was her only life line.

"Yulia!" Daath called out, relieved and flustered at the same time. He would have liked to run to check on her, but feared that if he moved his hand from the brunette's wound his young life would be lost. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah… I'm not hurt." Yulia's smile was pathetically frail like the rest of her in that moment and it hurt to see the normally energetic girl so fragile. Daath grimaced despite his efforts to be reassuring to her.

"Good," he said. "Can you help me? This guy is in bad shape…" Yulia's feet barely made a sound as she numbly floated to her friend's side. Her smile thinned into an unreadable line as she stared down at the wounded boy.

"His wound is bad… A bandage won't be able to save him," she observed grimly. Daath frowned, knowing Yulia was probably right but he couldn't abandon the swordsman. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the soft thud of Yulia dropping her satchel.

"What are you doing? Do you have something that can save him?" the acolyte asked as he watched the girl rummaging through her bag. Yulia shook her head as she pulled out a bracelet shaped capacity core. For a moment she fingered the fonic device before slipping over her slender wrist.

"Daath… I can save him, but… please, don't hate me," Yulia whispered softly as she pulled out her mentor's beloved staff. Dr. Southern-Cross was a genius; the capacity core's power combined with her amplifier caused the Seventh Fonons to stand out like stars against the black sky.

"What?" Daath looked up at Yulia, his eyes desperately searching her for answers to more questions than he could think to ask. The most dominant of them wondering how he could ever come to hate Yulia.

Yulia didn't answer as she closed her eyes, drawing the brilliant Seventh Fonons around her as she delicately clutched Dr. Southern-Cross' staff against her chest. She threaded the Fonons of Sound through her fonslots and delicately whispered a gentle verse that was both frail and powerful against the wind.

"_Oh, healing power. First Aid!"_

Daath felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; he had never seen a glyph like that before. Nor had he felt such a strong presence of what had to be the Fonon of Sound. He shuddered with horrible realization as he watched the fabled fonon mend the swordsman's wounds. Uncertain of the truth, Daath's hands numbly felt for the gaping injury that had moments ago been spilling the boy's life across the academy's lawn. There was no denying what had happened and the weight of its implications fell heavily upon the acolyte. His dry lips pursed together as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Yulia…" he croaked out. "You're… a Seventh Fonist?"

Yulia felt her tears manage their way down flushed cheeks despite her efforts to contain them. Her knees bitterly sunk to the ground and she bowed her head into quivering hands. The staff fell numbly to her side as she sobbed.

Daath knew.

* * *

And, so, I finally updated this. At last the characters have, more or less, met each other and I've been able to get to some of the action. Now that my finals are over I'll have some time to work on my fics before going to summer classes.


	5. Bedwin

So, even though I had the best intentions to update a lot over the past few weeks since I last published, life just didn't work out that way. I did finalize a few things about this story as far as characters and such go if that's any consolation. Sadly, fairly short chapter for you kids. (Well, comparatively short...)

Thanks to quip for pointing out some pretty important grammar errors I've been making for a while. I'm going to systematically go back through my stories and correct it starting with this chapter. Please point out any errors and feel free to question anything you think sounds out of place or logically flawed. I'm dealing with a lot of dense fantasy political/scientific stuff so I'm sure I'm bound to confuse something sooner or later.

* * *

_***~Bedwin~***_

An unfamiliar ceiling.

Flail blinked sluggishly as he stared up at the strange slanted wood. He couldn't remember ever waking up somewhere that wasn't inside the manor. Even as a child he'd always been too busy working for the Count to make friends or have slumber parties. Servants weren't allowed to go with the family on trips to other households, either. How odd.

The brunette's gaze drifted from the ceiling to the window; round, also wooden with regular pane glass covered by white curtains. He'd never seen a window like that from the inside. Certainly there were no noble houses that would have such a tiny, quaint window even in their servant's quarters. How very odd indeed.

Flail's memory of the night before returned like a thunderbolt. He practically threw the covers off himself as he searched for his wounds. The servant gripped at his formerly white shirt now stained by his own blood and pulled it up to reveal his smooth, muscular torso. There was no bandage, no rigid slice through his side; there was nothing. Flail's mind reeled as he tried to think of some logical reason why he was alive and, most disturbingly, unharmed. His innards twisted at the possibility of a coma. He'd heard of people becoming so terribly wounded in battle that they lost consciousness for months.

Months! Could he have been asleep so long that even the scar had healed away? What had happened to the city? What about Valta? Flail was instantly on his feet and charging out of the room for answers.

He ignored the impolite slapping of his bare feet against the uneven wooden boards. However, the servant couldn't help noting the narrowness of the crudely wall papered halls. Flail felt the tingling sensation of claustrophobia slip down his spine. Was this how normal people lived outside of the noble district?

Flail gripped at the staircase's rails to support his haste as he all but threw himself around the corner. He winced at the horrible creak that complained against his weight on the worn stairs. With a short grunt of distaste he hurried the rest of the way down.

The staircase opened into a small lobby with a desk and a few benches for waiting guests. A stout man thumbing through his log books loomed just behind the desk. Only when Flail less than delicately landed on the bottom step did his eyes stray from the records.

"Ah, you're awake," he said dully. For a brief moment his gaze lingered on Flail's bare feet, but did no more than take note of the boy's shamelessness. "Your friends are in the kitchen." He gestured to another narrow passage mostly hidden behind an oversized house plant.

Flail barely nodded as he slipped off the final step and onto the gaudy rug of swirled reds and blues. He lingered for a moment as he surmised the residence was a hotel of sorts, but it was far different from what had been described to him by Count Sigmund's guests. The boy almost cautiously crossed the lobby and slipped through the passage to the kitchens.

"… but crossing the border will be difficult now…"

"I know, but I have to go there no matter what."

Flail's pace quickened impatiently when he heard the young male and female voices. He clenched his fists, prepared to demand his answers as he made his entrance. The dining area was cramped and only separated from the kitchen by a low wall for trays of food to be passed between the cook and server. There were only three circular tables and a few sets of chairs to accommodate customers.

The only guests were a couple sitting at the nearest table that fell silent as they turned to regard Flail.

"H-How are you feeling?" the grey haired boy asked awkwardly under Flail's harsh stare. His maroon robes obviously belonged to the Church of the Six Sentients and his open posture suggested he either didn't see Flail as a threat or simply hadn't been trained to watch his guard around a potential combatant. The acolyte pushed his glasses into place while smiling in a polite attempt to be friendly and inviting.

"Where are we?" Flail demanded, not willing to relax in case the former of the two possibilities was true.

"The Sandries Inn at Bedwin," the boy answered, not batting an eye at Flail's rudeness.

"Bedwin? Why am I out in the boondocks?" Flail narrowed his eyes as he recalled Ispania's surrounding territories and their general geography. Bedwin had been formed merely out of convenience for travelers on their way to the capitol from rural towns. If he recalled correctly it wasn't even on a trade route.

"We were just lucky a passing caravan picked us up," the acolyte explained. "We weren't in a position to debate where we were going and ended up all the way out here."

"What do you mean by that?" Flail started. He hesitated and shook his head in frustration. "No, more importantly, why did you take me from the city? How long have I been unconscious?"

"Please sit down so we can explain better." The girl finally spoke up with a weary smile as she lightly fingered her mug. Her short, pale blonde hair hung limply over her shoulders under some strange hair ornament of twisting golden metal. Flail was quiet as he studied her petite frame and delicate features until his eyes widened with recognition.

"You're that cursed girl!" he blurted out accusingly. The female was so startled that it took her a moment to react. Her light verdant eyes burned with fury as she rose to her full, unintimidating height.

"Cursed? I am not cursed!" she argued indignantly. "It's gullible, superstitious people like you who make my life so difficult!"

"G-Gullible?" Flail sputtered on the word as his cheeks burned.

"Yulia, please, calm down," the acolyte said gently, raising his hands in defense as if he could physically ward away their bad moods.

"That's easy for you to say," Yulia half snapped. Her hands jumped up to cover her mouth as if shocked by its unfair anger towards the stormy eyed boy. "I… I mean… I'm sorry, Daath."

"It is fine," Daath said gently, not fazed by her short temper. "We've all been through a lot. Let's settle down and discuss it over breakfast." He nudged a chair towards Flail as a silent invite for him to join them. The servant thought to refuse on principle but knew he needed answers and his stomach was starting to cramp. He wasn't sure when he last ate. With a soft grunt to indicate his reluctance, he lowered his weight heavily into the chair. Yulia sat stiffly, not any happier than Flail was to share the same company.

"Who are you, anyway?" Flail finally asked.

"Shouldn't you offer your own name before asking someone else's?" Yulia asked shortly as she took a quick sip of her tea to get the bad taste of talking to him out of her mouth. Flail narrowed his eyes at the girl but relented.

"My name is Flail Albert," he said, "Servant of Count Sigmund."

"I am Francis Daath," the ecclesiastic said pleasantly, not seeming the least bit deterred by his companions' ire, "I am an acolyte currently in charge of the shrine at Rem's Garden. This is my friend, Yulia Jue, a researcher at Ispania Academy."

"Ispania Academy…" Flail repeated somberly. His expression darkened as he recalled the blood soaked state of the front lawn and the attackers he had faced.

"Can I ask what you were doing there and who you were fighting?" Daath asked cautiously, desiring answers but not wanting to tread recklessly on what might be a delicate matter.

"I was just passing through," Flail admitted. "I happened upon them taking some old guy prisoner."

"Old guy?" Yulia gave an urgent start and nearly rose out of her seat again. "What did he look like?"

"I didn't really get a good look at him," Flail said, blinking at the girl's emotional reaction. "He had a long beard and hair…" Yulia's mouth thinned with recognition as she settled back in her chair.

"Doctor…" she mumbled faintly as she turned her attention to fingering the rim of her mug again. Daath shifted to place a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"He might still be alive," he said. "That's great news, isn't it?"

"Providing he isn't being tortured for information or something," Flail said absently as he reached for one of the biscuits on the table. He broke the pastry in half before he finally sensed their eyes on him and looked up. Daath's weak, anxious smile and Yulia's cold glare told him he'd made a faux pas of some sort. "What?"

"You're horrible," Yulia accused. "The worst kind of human being."

"Now, now…" Daath tried to sooth the angered female. Flail shifted irritably at her accusation and decided against retaliating. He wasn't about to apologize, but even he could recognize when he was being insensitive.

"Neither of you have answered my questions," he pointed out.

"Sorry," Daath said as he sat back in his chair, taking a sip of his own drink to collect his thoughts regarding their escape from the capitol.

* * *

_Despite the echos of death and chaos in the distance, no sound was quite as haunting or deafening as the pitiful sobs of Yulia Jue. Daath could only stare at the healer as she crumpled into a small heap of misery. He was by no means experienced in comforting a distraught woman under any circumstance and the weight of his current revelation wasn't making it much easier for him to think of the appropriate reaction._

_Yulia was a Seventh Fonist, one who could use the catastrophic fonon of creation and destruction; the fonon of sound; the center of the Fonic War that had reduced Aldurant to a bloody imitation of its former glory; the fonon that had cast doubt and contempt upon the Church of the Sixth Sentiences. It was the fonon that was destroying the world and Yulia was its wielder._

_Daath shuddered at the thought of this girl having such a deep connection to the horrible fonon, but quickly tried to catch himself. His mind back peddled for rationality against the current of darker emotions. No one chose the fonon they were aligned with; it wasn't Yulia's fault. Yulia was still the kind, energetic girl who had such ridiculously innocent fantasies about falling in love and getting married. Yulia was still the girl who had worked alongside him for so many months to restore Rem's garden, wasn't she?_

_The acolyte took a few deep breaths as he recollected himself, holding tightly to the silent mantra that Yulia Jue, the Seventh Fonist, was still Yulia Jue, his most precious friend._

"_Yulia… are you hurt?" he asked, surprising himself with his own steady tone. The hiccuped failure of a confirmation reassured him she was fine despite her less than optimistic state. "I'm glad. I was really worried about you."_

_The pale blonde's shoulders winced in confusion. Sluggishly she raised her puffy eyes from her hands to see Daath smiling at her. The smile was painfully wary and uncertain, but it was genuine enough that she nearly began to sob again._

"_Daath… you don't have to pretend you still like me," she forced herself to say, not wanting the ecclesiastic to pity her with false friendship. "I understand so…"_

"_I'm a little shocked," Daath gently cut in. "I'm not really sure what to think, to be honest, but for now I'd like to focus on getting out of this alive. We should move somewhere safer, if that's alright with you."_

"_I…" Yuila swallowed her tears, wanting to force the conversation and confirm Daath's hatred. She couldn't explain why the need to know burned so deeply in her chest, but it was painfully smoldering and swelling inside the very core of her being. Perhaps it was easier for her shell-shocked mind to focus on that one bit of anxiety rather than the various, intangible emotions overwhelming her._

"_Can you stand up?" Daath asked as he rose and extended a hand. "I'll need your help to move this guy. We can't just leave him here."_

_Yulia clenched her teeth; outraged that he was ignoring her sin. Without thinking she threw all of her fury and frustration into slapping his tender hand away. The sting of her blow was more evident in his expression than the soreness of his appendage._

"_Y-Yulia?"_

"_How can you say that?" Yulia demanded, nearly shouting against her hot tears. "Don't you realize what just happened? A proper priest would condemn me right away! What's wrong with you, Daath?" The short silence was almost as deafening as the truth of her words still hanging in the air._

"_Well… I'm just an acolyte," Daath said softly as he held out his hand again, ignoring her flinch. "There are many things I don't know about the church and the rest of the world. There are, apparently, many things I don't know about you… But I do know that you are a good person, Yulia, and I don't want to see someone important to me hurt."_

"_D-Daath…" Yulia half whimpered, half breathed out, nearly choking as another fit of sobs jumped into her throat, "Daath, you idiot! You're such an… an idiot!"_

_Daath smiled, recognizing the softness in her insults. When she had calmed down he spoke again. "Come on and stand up," he said, "There's still a lot we have to do, you know?"_

"_Y-Yeah," Yulia said, wiping her eyes as she tried to smile up at the acolyte. She took his hand and rose to her feet, dusting the bloody mud and grass from her knees. "Sorry, Daath, for causing so much trouble."_

"_It's understandable that you would be upset," Daath assured her. "Now, let's get this guy somewhere safe. After that I plan on assisting in containing the fires and monsters in the lower districts…"_

_Yulia opened her mouth to offer assistance, but the words were drowned out by a deafening, guttural shriek. The girl gripped her upper body as if to keep it from shaking apart under the horrible noise. Even the ground beneath her feet gave a quake of terror._

"_Wh… What was that?" Daath asked hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper in the following silence. For a moment it seemed as if the sound had been so great it swallowed up the chaotic symphony of war around them. The ground lurched violently with a thundering crash that knocked the ecclesiastic and scientist off their feet._

_Yulia's heart beat wildly in her chest as if she could sense the monstrosity before her eyes rose to spot the behemoth towering over them. The beast was easily two or three stories tall hunkered over on all fours. Its scales were a dark, murky red flaked with black. Onyx talons glinted dangerously in the distant glow of fire as the beast rolled into its proper posture on two muscular legs, rendering Yulia's first estimation of its height invalid. The leathery wingspan filled her entire peripheral vision as the demonic appendages neatly tucked into place behind its back._

"_A drake…?" Yulia heard Daath choke out beside her. Yes, her mind supplied automatically. Zoology was not her forte, but she knew of drakes. They were a rare type of dragon that had once been bred for warfare by certain nomadic tribes. Usually they only grew to twenty feet in length but this one was surely ten times that estimation. It wasn't entirely unheard of for one to grow to immeasurable sizes in the wild, but she was fairly certain that they were extinct outside of those in captivity._

_For a few fleeting seconds the drake merely surveyed its surroundings as if casually debating where to start first. Its chest swelled as the beast's thick neck extended backwards. The razor edged beak nestled between two ominous tusks opened, revealing hungry red flames dancing playfully behind the monster's fangs. Yulia's body was suddenly numb and cold as if she was actually very far away at the moment._

_A wad of lava like mucus was launched from the monster's throat, trailed by fire and dripping molten hot liquid across the darkness of the night. The unfortunate building it fell upon erupted in brilliant flames that lit the sky crimson._

_The gust of hot air discharged from the explosion struck Yulia and she screamed senselessly in horror as the drake began its rampage against the defenseless buildings. A harsh grip on her shoulders was the only thing that pulled her back to reality._

"_We have to run!" Daath shouted over the renewal of terror and destruction._

_"B-But the people! All those people are…" Yulia tried to protest helplessly. Daath shook his head as he turned to lift the unconscious swordsman against his shoulder. Yulia wanted to argue, but a surge of terror following another earth shuddering roar from the beast quickly had her at the swordsman's other side, sharing his weight between herself and the acolyte. "U-Under the academy… the passage I used before can lead us out of the city."_

"_Let's hurry," Daath agreed, allowing Yulia to guide them to safety._

* * *

"Like I said before, a passing caravan picked us up when we emerged outside of the escape tunnel," Daath concluded evenly. "We fell asleep and awoke all the way out here where we got off."

Yulia quietly continued to toy with the cup now shaking in her unsteady hands as she recalled the moments of destruction. Her hair hung stagnantly in her face as the scientist kept her gaze low.

"The… The capital… Was it destroyed?" Flail asked. His voice had gone quiet while he tried to reconcile what he had been told with the reality he was familiar with. The servant clenched his fists grimly, wondering if the Sigmund House had been destroyed. While it was far from unheard of for a city to be decimated over night in the violent history of Auldrant, they had always seemed like far away stories.

"We haven't heard any news yet," Daath said. "It's still too soon for a messenger to reach a place like this. Bedwin has no strategic importance so it gets low priority for information."

"We're the only refugees to come this way?" Flail asked, his disbelief coming out in anger as he slammed his fist into the table against the absurdity of it all. "Even if this isn't a designated evacuation spot it's been weeks, hasn't it? Someone should have come by!"

"No… You've only been asleep for three days," Daath said softly, avoiding the confused and startled gaze of the taller youth's intelligent blue eyes.

"My side was ripped open… There's not even a scar," Flail said slowly as his mind started to spiral at the impossibility of the situation. He gripped the edge of the table as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded in the real world. "That's ridiculous! Wounds don't heal that easily!"

"Just be glad you're alive!" Yulia suddenly shouted, her body going rigid as her fingers paled from their grip on the mug. Her verdant eyes flashed with tears and frustration. "You already have so much more than the victims and you're complaining about being unharmed? What's wrong with you?"

Flail recoiled from the girl as if she had physically slapped him. He could only stare at her quivering body, all at once noticing the faded bruises and scrapes from her struggle to survive. His expression softened even as he glared downward and released the table.

"Thank you for saving me," Flail said sedately.

"This all must be hard to take in at once," Daath said.

"It must have been even harder to experience." The servant shook his head, creating a wave through his smooth brown hair. "I over reacted."

"It isn't an unreasonable reaction, though," Daath assured the chastised boy. He looked up when he heard the screech of chair legs against the wooden floor.

"I need some fresh air," Yulia explained, avoiding eye contact as she passed Flail on her way towards the exit. Flail kept his gaze forward while Daath only acknowledged her need for space with an unseen nod.

"I guess I really upset her," Flail observed once her footsteps had faded down the hall.

"You could say that," Daath admitted. "She's been having a hard time with it."

"You're surprisingly calm," Flail said, turning a suspicious eye on the acolyte.

"Not at all," Daath said with a chuckle, "I'm terrified, to be honest. The church has us train for self defense and protecting others, but I've never actually been involved in an attack until now."

"Training, huh…" Flail sighed and ran a hand through his bangs. "If news about the capitol hasn't reached here yet, then I guess there's no information regarding the front lines, huh?"

"No, there isn't," Daath said apologetically.

"Hm…" Flail grunted his acknowledgment before looking over at the acolyte. "What are you planning to do now?"

"Honestly, I should return to Rem's Garden as soon as possible to help protect and assist the people." Daath fidgeted guiltily, lightly drumming his fingers on the table's rim. "But I'm worried about Yulia."

"Does she not want to return? She did seem pretty shaken up," Flail said. "I hear it's not uncommon for refugees to be too afraid to go home after an attack."

"Yulia isn't like that," Daath said immediately.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Flail said. He felt pretty confident he hadn't spoken out of line that time, but he wasn't known for his impeccable social skills.

"Yulia has something important she needs to confirm," Daath said, accepting that Flail had no ill intentions. "For that purpose she is determined to set out on a journey."

"Alone?" Flail frowned at the thought of such a frail looking girl traveling by herself.

"No matter what, she says." Daath obviously echoed the servant's unspoken concerns.

"Before I walked in I heard you guys mention something about the border," Flail said. "This journey of hers would even take her out of Ispania?"

"Yes," Daath confirmed, "I imagine it will take us far beyond Ispania."

"You're going with her?" Flail quirked a brow at the acolyte's devotion to the girl. "I thought your duty was to Rem's Garden?" The tiny, cryptic smile that accompanied Daath's response unsettled the servant on some level he couldn't quite place.

"I have certain things I want to confirm, too," Daath explained as his gaze left Flail to linger outside a nearby window, "about the war… about Yulia… about my own beliefs and even about Aldrant itself. I want to give her a proper answer one day about all these things."

"And following her will help you find that answer?" Flail asked, drawing the other youth's attention back to him.

"That's what I believe," Daath admitted as he smiled at another one of Flail's suspicious stares.

"So… you two are involved?"

"I-Involved?" The poor ecclesiastic's cheeks burned brightly as he fumbled with the idea. "No! No, we're just friends. That's all. That's seriously all!"

"Ok, I believe you," Flail said to sooth the panicking boy. He couldn't help but crack amused smile. This was the first emotional reaction he'd seen from Daath. "I was just wondering."

"Please, don't startle me like that." Daath heaved a sigh, his face still flushed crimson under his glasses. Flail suppressed a chuckle as he gave the acolyte some time to recollect himself. He thoughtfully nibbled on his all but forgotten biscuit.

"By the way… To cross the border you'll have to go through the check point, right?" Flail asked after swallowing a bite of his biscuit.

"Most likely," Daath mused as he took a sip of his drink. "Unless we are forced to sneak across... Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to go with you," Flail said, "at least until we reach the check point. I can get some information there."

"You don't want to return to the capitol?" The acolyte put down his cup, surprised that the taller boy would want to accompany them despite his apparent reservations.

"Let's just say…" Flail began with a faint smirk directed at Daath, "... that I have some things I want to confirm, too."

* * *

"La, la, la… lala laala…"

Yulia's voice was delicate and soft on the wind that carried the girl's wordless melody across vacant scenery. Bedwin was truly all but a ghost town. Aside from the general store, grocery, inn and a few sparse farms in the distance there was nothing but a road stretching as far as the eye could see.

The city girl found it lonely and a tad creepy at first, but she was growing to see the beauty in such a slow paced, peaceful life. Most of the residents were friendly, closely knit people that were pleasant to talk with and had no prejudices against her. People like that she could truly love. However, Yulia doubted she would enjoy living in such a way so far from the rest of the world.

Yulia's heart twisted painfully in her chest, forcing her to drop the tune she had been working on. The rest of the world was filled with bloodshed. Even peaceful Ispania was soiled by the Fonic War. Most likely this quaint Bedwin would be, too.

"No… I'll change it," Yulia whispered softly, a hand going to the amplifier securely fashioned to her head; Dr. Southern-Cross' final gift. Her brows knit stubbornly as her voice gathered strength. "I'll do it… I'll definitely find the Seventh Sentience and end the Fonic War. No matter what it takes."

Which was fine to say and resolve in her heart, but that didn't stop her body from trembling. Nor did it silence the screams echoing in her memories.

"La, la, la… lala laala…"

Perhaps if she couldn't silence them, then she could sing her fears away.

* * *

The tune is supposed to be Nightmare (or whatever the name of her first song is), actually. No idea how to put that in lala form, but did my best. If you got it, good job, if not then oh well. It's not very clear at all.


End file.
